


A Golden Cage

by AliceMalefoy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Knife Play, Language, Marvel Norse Lore, Mild Hurt/Comfort, NSFW, Norwegian Mythology & Folklore, Original Character(s), Smut, Swearing, Torture, cursing, slave - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-03-14 18:26:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 31,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13595811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceMalefoy/pseuds/AliceMalefoy
Summary: The bittersweet reunion of two lovers kept apart too long.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this with the characters of the MCU in mind, but it is inspired by a passage of the Nordic mythology. Instead of being imprisoned, I imagined Odin would have Loki punished, to make him atone for his crimes against Midgard in Avengers.

The halls of Asgard were full of nobles whispering, and slaves shuffling about, hurriedly finishing the day's preparations. Laetherea on the other hand made no sound at all. Her bare feet silently walked the corridors, enjoying the cool contact of cold marble and the softness of her dress brushing against her legs. Her eyes scanned her surroundings as though she hadn't been walking these same halls for centuries, marveling at each tapestry and ornate vase. If she hadn't been so acutely aware of being scrutinized she might have reached out to let her fingers brush against the intricate stonework of the pillars lining the walls. 

But she didn't. With each step that brought her closer to the Great Hall, Laetherea felt the servants staring at her with increasing boldness. Though if she returned the stare they would immediately look down and resume their task without a word. It seemed that if Laetherea didn't inspire them any admiration for rising above her condition the way she did, they at least had the decency to show her the respect due to her position.

She scoffed and walked away, chin up. There was nothing she could do to change their minds, she had given up long ago. They liked ganging up against her, it gave them something to do, something to help them forget that they were servants for a while. So she let them. Laetherea had better things to think of, she wouldn't let anyone's envy ruin her mood, especially not today for she had waited this day a long time.

“Loki,” she whispered, despite herself.

A young girl carrying a tray of mead cups looked at her as she walked by, startled to hear her speak. She was too young to have known Laetherea when she was still a servant too, and held no visible enmity toward her.

“Come here,” Laetherea called the girl, gesturing her closer. Visibly confused and intimidated, the girl hesitated a second before obeying and hurried over. Laetherea merely smiled and grabbed a cup of mead, quickly downing it and setting it back on the tray. Under the girl's puzzled gaze, the cup refilled on its own. “What is your name?”

“U-Ulleah,” she stammered with a blush on her cheeks. Laetherea's hand rose and pushed back a stray strand of her hair, making Ulleah tense.

“Go, Ulleah,” she told her gently. “The festivities are about to begin.”

She was gone before Laetherea had finished speaking, leaving her with a lingering smile on her face. It felt good to be back. Now the halls were almost empty, all servants at their place, all nobles waiting in the Great Hall.  Laetherea stood still in front of the closed double doors and breathed calmly in an attempt to convince herself that this would go well. With trembling hands she smoothed over her green velvet dress. It felt heavy but the warm, reassuring contact felt like a shield against people's prying eyes. She had chosen the garment carefully for her first public appearance in ages. 

It was rather plain but elegant enough. Baring her shoulders but covering her arms, it ended in golden cuffs around her wrists. A similar jewel ensnared her waist, and two slits going from her belt down to the floor showed Laetherea's alabaster skin. First her hips, then her long legs, down to her gold-cuffed ankles. No unnecessary adornments, no trace of vanity or wealth other than the quality of the fabric. The noble ladies of Asgard scrunched up their noses when they saw her provocative garments, a testimony to her position in their society.

Laetherea laughed in their faces, repeating to herself, like a mantra, that answering their distasteful comments or looks was beneath her. Let them be hateful.

“The doors will remain closed during the festivities ma'am,” a polite yet sharp voice told her, snapping Laetherea out of her thoughts. 

It was a guard, waiting for her to step inside with a hand on the door. She nodded in silence and walked in. The shining hall was filled to the brim with people, the common folk standing near the door and slowly giving way to Asgardians of higher status until finally there was the throne – Odin sat still and stern, his shaft in his hand and his eyes darted on the huge doors of the palace. Next to him was Queen Frigga, occupying a much less grand but masterfully crafted chair, and behind them stood the best of the best, the close circle to the royal family, the most privileged beings in the universe. That's where Laetherea was to stand, though she knew several people would have objected to that if they had a saying in it.

Surely enough all eyes were on her as she made her way towards the group of ladies waiting behind Queen Frigga, earning a few scoffs of disdain. The woman next to her even shuffled away as though Laetherea had lice. The young woman did not take offense and instead enjoyed the personal space it provided her with. She wasn't one for crowds and took several deep breaths to slow down the erratic beating of her heart – though it was perhaps due to something else than the hostility shown towards her person.

As if time was suspended, the musicians waited, hands raised and ready to play. Everybody stood still, the women were quiet even if you could sense how much they would have to whisper about if they could. The men stood straight behind Odin, half of them looking stern and the other half glad. A testimony to who the guests of honor were. For most of the Asgardians it was a bittersweet day. They would finally get their beloved prince Thor back, yet this joyous piece of news was tarnished by the return of his younger brother. After all this time, they still didn't consider Loki as one of them. Laetherea hated them for this.

“Look at her!”

“This dress is an abomination!”

“Such lack of decency.”

“Why is she still allowed here?”

The few and far between comments uttered about Laetherea reached her ears but left her indifferent. There was a time where each ill word spoken against her felt like a stab in her heart, but it was long gone. Like so many arrows deflected by the wind, they never hit their target – or perhaps they bounced off her hardened heart?

They could look all they wanted, they could criticize until their tongues fell off for all she cared. Even if Laetherea had worn a völva1 linen dress they would have found something negative to say about it. Even if each centimeter of her skin was covered they would find her indecent and provocative, so she might as well make it worth their while – not that she dressed for them. This dress was designed and made to please but one person.

An abrupt rubble startled everyone and whispers erupted from left and right as the sudden noise wasn't followed by anything else, and people wondered what it could have been. But then, the massive doors of the palace opened, letting the light filter through the opening despite the late hour. The sun was setting but still blinding in it's brightness. A tall and dark figure could be made out and soon there was Thor standing before the crowd; the people were cheering, and the musicians playing, and no one seemed to care or mind the fact that he came alone. Thor strutted in with his usual swagger, looking like the golden boy who came home at long last – which he was to everyone in this room. But Laetherea didn't come here to see Thor's confident strides and jubilant smile.

Queen Frigga seemed to be the first one to look around, searching for her younger son, and Laetherea felt herself relax at that. She had always respected and admired the queen, and for good reason. She knew Loki held her dear in his heart and Frigga loved him for who he was, not in spite of what he was. But the fact remained that Loki was absent, and Laetherea felt her interest in these ridiculously lavish festivities melt like snow in the sun.

“Thor,” Odin's voice rolled like thunder, calling for silence as he spoke. “My son, welcome home. We have been greatly anticipating your return.”

“And I appreciate the feeling,” Thor replied with a blinding smile. No doubt half of the female population swooned in that moment, not that Laetherea could see it, they all turned their backs on her.

She didn't follow the rest of the father and son small talk about the current state of things in Midgard and such. There was no point in being here. Laetherea felt anger flare in her chest, warming up her cheeks in a furious blush and accidentally turning her hair a bright red color. Before too many people around her could notice she strained herself and made it go back to its natural brown shade, though it was too late and a few women already noticed and further squinted their eyes at her.

They didn't trust her, same as they didn't trust Loki, they only saw the bad in them, as if people were black and white instead of gray. In their minds there was no place for nuances, they were the scape goats, the intruders, the ones to blame for everything. For this narrowness of mind, she didn't trust them either.

“Thor,” Frigga's soft maternal voice interrupted his conversation with his father, a crease of worry barring her forehead. “What of your brother? What of Loki, where is he?”

Thor's face turned grim just as half of the women in the Hall turned towards Laetherea to see if  _the witch_ had an answer to this question. To their utter dismay, she no longer stood there, despite having been there a second earlier. There was no sign of her presence whatsoever in this room, not even a hint of perfume lingering in the air. Frigga who had caught onto what had happened smiled faintly as Thor confessed that Loki was not in good dispositions, and had refused to step through the front doors, insisting on going straight to his chambers, no doubt in a less polite fashion than his older brother did, but Frigga wasn't listening anymore. 

She knew her son was in good hands.

 

*

 

Still barefoot, Laetherea dashed through the now empty halls of the palace, running past the tapestries and other beautiful pieces of craftsmanship she had been admiring earlier as if they weren't even there. Her heavy gown flew behind her, whipping the back of her legs with each stride until she reached her destination at the far end of the West wing. It was a fairly quiet part of the palace, little to no hustle, far from the Hall, the kitchens or the Royal Quarters. It was Loki's room, near the library, and closest to Queen Frigga's gardens.

Laetherea's heart hammered mercilessly in her chest, threatening to give away her presence and beat its way out of her ribcage. Her trembling hand rose and touched the wood of the heavy doors but didn't push. 

Was he even in there? Or had she left the Hall too soon? Perhaps there had been a problem Thor wasn't willing to talk about in front of Asgard's entire population and his return was delayed another few days? Weeks? Months? Bile rose up in her throat and she forced herself to swallow it down. No, she couldn't allow herself to think like this. Loki was behind these doors, he had to be.

And without further ado, Laetherea removed her hand from the door and waved it, causing the double doors to open before her, and she stepped inside the now dimly lit room. The sun was still shining when she left but it was nearly dark now, only lit by a few enchanted candles that lit up as soon as the sun went down. One of them wavered oddly and Laetherea realized that in the far right corner, Loki sat on a chair and played with the dancing flame, making it flicker as he ran his fingers through the fire.

“Loki,” Laetherea breathed out rather gracelessly, fearing that she was imagining him. She hadn't seen him in so long – too long. “Loki,” she repeated, a bit more firmly when she saw him stop moving after she called his name.

Her pleas fell on deaf ears, Loki ignored her and resumed his playing with the candle as if it were the most fascinating thing he had ever seen. She might as well not be there at all – he showed no sign of seeing or hearing her. But the sheer joy of seeing him again surpassed any feeling of rejection or annoyance, and it downplayed her reasoning ability.

“By the Norns, you're back, you're really back,” Laetherea said, her voice nearly breaking in the middle of the sentence. The suppressed sobs she had been holding in for months now made her voice coarse and uneven, but she remained collected and kept her tears at bay.

She closed the distance between them in the time she needed to say those words, and her shaking hands covered her mouth as she stared in disbelief. He looked  _hollow_ . Her hands ached to touch him, to make sure he wasn't merely an illusion, a trick played by her mind. What horrors has he been subjected to during his absence? What have they done to her Loki? 

“Am I though?” He asked, showing the first sign of listening to her. Laetherea fell heavily on the floor, her legs giving in when she heard his voice. So low, so raspy, as if he hadn't used it for too long, and each word scorched his throat. “I don't feel like myself.”

“I thought I would never see you again, that you were gone for good!” Her laments grew pitiful and she hated it, but the aching in her chest was too much. Such relief, such solace. It grew in her chest, expanded, pressed against her heart, and hurt – it hurt _so good_. “Each new sunrise without you by my side was a new injury to my heart and to your memory - but it's over now, it's over,” she cried out, shifting closer to Loki.

He still barely acknowledged her presence but Laetherea couldn't bring herself to care, for her love was back, he was returned to her in one piece - it was all that mattered. Finally she reached out for him, and when they touched Loki froze and looked at her, detaching his gaze from the dancing flame. There was this beautiful woman clutching at his leg like a lifeline, her head resting on his knee as she cried out her relief and comfort, and though he recognized her, he did not feel anything when he was aware he should.

“Let go of me,” he eventually ordered her when he grew tired of having her weep on his leg. “You're wasting your tears on me, go away. You're burdening me with your pathetic presence.”

Each new word, like so many spears to Laetherea's chest made her die a little. She flinched when he stood up and the contact was broken. That was far from the reunion she had hoped for, quite the opposite of the picture in her head. But perhaps more time than she had imagined had gone by. The Norns know where Odin had sent his youngest son. Time passes differently in different realms, it might have been centuries for Loki. Laetherea could only imagine what centuries of imprisonment could do to a person, and the months she spent without her love here on Asgard already felt like an eternity.

The loud clatter of a goblet hitting the floor woke her up from her daydreaming, and Laetherea jumped to her feet. What had gotten into her? She wiped her tears away. This was a mistake, of course he would think her weak if she welcomed him home with crying and wailing.

“Forgive me. I am merely relieved to see you alive and well,” she said in a much more detached tone.

She hated having to act aloof around him. As good as she had become at pretending she did not care about anything around the nobles of Asgard, the only thing that made it bearable was that Laetherea could usually be herself with Loki. Would today be the day it all changed? Were the days of her privileged relationship with the youngest Odinson a thing of the past?

“Really?” He asked in a snarl, turning around to gauge her, as if searching for something.

It did not sound right, the way he said the word. Laetherea frowned.

“Did you think I would not be? With you gone I had nothing left!” She clenched her fist and took a step forward before freezing when she saw Loki's expression close off.

“Well, I'm sorry to hear that my absence deprived you of your privileges, I did not mean to be such a discomfort to you,” Loki scoffed, showing nothing but disdain to Laetherea.

“What is the matter, Loki?” She whispered, the air knocked out of her lungs almost instantly upon hearing those cutting words. “You more than anyone else should know that this is not true. Don't you use my own words against me, I am on your side, always.”

“On my side,” Loki repeated, tasting the words. “Perhaps yes, you are on my side. But not _by_ my side, were you? While I was banished from Asgard, put in the darkness hole of the grimiest cavern, with no light, no warmth, nothing but silence, my own thoughts, and immeasurable pain!” He suddenly barked at her, his voice raising in a way Laetherea did not like.

“Don't-” She said, heaving.

Loki merely laughed bitterly, increasing her anger with his mockery.

“I can see the rage boiling in you,” he observed, still grinning like a madman. “You are betraying yourself, woman.”

Before she could step away from him, Loki closed the distance between Laetherea and him, and grabbed a lock of her hair, looping it around a finger. A fiery orange had replaced her natural brown.

“At least something hasn't changed,” he said in a lower voice, as if he didn't mean for her to hear him. His hand stroke her hair and his gaze became unfocused. Laetherea jumped to the occasion to grab his wrist.

“If you only mean to insult and belittle me, then I forbid you to touch me,” Laetherea snapped, raising her voice to the same level as his.

He wasn't the only one who could yell and be angry. Did he truly think she wasn't angry? That she wasn't putting up an act around the others but fuming inside? What else what she supposed to feel anyway, after her lover had been snatched from her arms and taken away from her in the middle of the night, when the bed was still warm from their love-making? With no knowledge of where Loki was, and no means of reaching him, Laetherea had no idea if he was even still alive, and if he was, when he would be returned to her. She ate, slept, and breathed, but her life remained in parenthesis all the while he was gone. Could he not see it? Did he not know her? He has always been her sole ally, her anchor, her tether – it was only natural for her to lose her footing when he disappeared from her life.

“Oh, and who exactly do you think you are to forbid a Prince of Asgard to do as he pleases?” He replied, still displaying the same sickening smile that made Laetherea's stomach churn.

She outstretched her fingers, clenched her fist, and repeated. Once. Twice. Thrice. No, there was no point, she was going to lift her hand and slap him into the next realm. How dared he? How could he? Her Loki might be a stubborn, ill tempered, spoiled brat, but he was not disrespectful, and as much as he liked to push her buttons and everyone else's, he only ever said purposely hurtful things to those he held in very low regard. Against her better judgment, Laetherea stroke him, the sound of the slap made even louder by the silence surrounding them.

“You miserable swellhead!” She spat at him, feeling herself give in to all the fury, the bottled up wrath making her hair stand on end – yet heavyhearted that their reunion, which was meant to be joyful and grand, had come to this. “I won't let you insult me without saying anything, Loki! And if this is the best idea you got to make me leave, then let me tell you that the lack of sunlight in your cave really must have killed your brain cells.”

“Are you calling me stupid? Oh dear, you wound me,” Loki laughed and clutched his shirt over his heart, further infuriating Laetherea with his condescension. “Surely you can do better, or maybe your own ability to use wit didn't fare well without my uplifting presence.”

“Contrary to what you seem to think, I'm not as vain as you are, and as far as reputations go, mine is no concern of mine. Yours, on the other hand... what would people think of the legendary silver-tongued Loki if he couldn't even make his own woman calm down from her temper with a few well chosen words? Do not push me Loki, I'm not afraid to throw a tantrum the whole palace will hear of.”

Now she was purely provoking him, feeling pride in making him as furious as she was,  _enjoying it_ even. 

“Quiet,” Loki told her, his voice dangerously low.

He was very close to her, for they had not moved since Laetherea slapped him. Knowing that he was at arms' length made her skin prickle, but as near as he stood, he had never been more out of reach, not even in this dark cave he spoke of.

“I am not one of your many servants that will blindly obey and look away, Loki!” Laetherea reminded him – in case time and distance made him forget who he was talking to. “I couldn't care less about what you want me to do; I'm here because you need me.” Whether he admitted it or not.

He opened his mouth, his finger already pointing at her when she continued speaking.

“Go ahead. Deny it. It won't make me go away. Nothing can make me leave this room against my will.”

Loki briefly considered putting an end to this pointless argument by picking her up and carrying her out of his chambers, but his sense of self-preservation held him back. Probably a good thing, because Laetherea had been fidgety and itching to cast a spell on him since the beginning of this conversation, that he was sure of.

“I resent you, Loki,” Laetherea admitted, her tears welling in her eyes the moment the words came out – but she blinked a few times and the tears disappeared. “Why do you make me so angry when we should be celebrating?”

“Don't let me ruin your evening, my dear. It looks like we're in for a peaceful, starry night, surely my presence here cannot spoil your mo-”

This time it was too much. In a swift gesture, Laetherea changed his tongue into stone, effectively shutting up Loki, to his utmost outrage.

“If you have nothing but unpleasant things to say Loki, you might as well stay quiet,” she chuckled, proud of her little trick. Not that it required a lot of skill, but the look of puzzlement on his face was a priceless sight. “How dare you speak to me in this way, Loki Odinson? Or should I say Laufeyson?”

This time she wasn't playing around anymore, and although Loki was quick to undo her spell, she did not let him say a word.

“Your origins are such source of misery to you, you often speak of your unworthiness, or the fact that the people might turn on you, that you are unjustly privileged in this life and that soon, someone will see it and point it out to the others. How many times have I listened to your doubts, your fears, as I eased them and pushed them away for you. How many times have you told me that my condition is no different than yours, that we are both united in our difference from the others? Were your words all lies? Don't you have an ounce of honesty in your body? If so, please speak up now, because that might just make me walk away – out of this room, and out of your life.”

Laetherea's little speech had unsettled Loki in more than one way and she rejoiced in this knowledge. His hold over his Asgardian appearance wavered as he concentrated to control his anger. He had never hit her, never showed any sign of physical violence towards her, not matter how heated their arguments could get, so Laetherea was not afraid of getting hit, she was not stepping back when he glared her way. But she feared his next words, more than anything.

His chest rose and fell irregularly as he tried to calm down, but Laetherea looked at him with daring eyes, chin up, shoulders back – a regal stance for such a low born woman. Loki had to admit that he did miss her presence, her fire. If he was of Jotun ascendance, she must be a child of Muspelheim. Only she could melt the walls of ice surrounding his heart. Loki never fought against it, quite the opposite actually. Unfamiliar with being shown such warmth and care, he huddled against her, like a freezing man to a hearth. Where was this Loki gone? Was he still in the cold and humid cave that had been his cell?

“Nothing. You have nothing to say?” Laetherea insisted, giving Loki another chance to wipe the board clean and start this awful evening over.

Her shoulders slumped down when he finally looked up again and met her eyes. He would not make any efforts tonight.

“I don't answer to a _slave_ and a _whore_ , especially not one who thinks she can speak in such manner to someone far above her condition,” he spat in her face, causing Laetherea to turn livid.

It did not last long. A second later, she was at his throat.

“I hate you! You wretched being! You filthy rat! You are nothing but a dishonor! A despicable traitor, no wonder people hate you so, you do everything you can to prove them right!” Her grip on him was tight and with her hands grasping his linen shirt, Laetherea ripped a whole in the fabric and yanked Loki forward to make him meet her fiery gaze. “What lowly comeback do you have this time, huh Loki? Are you going to stop at my modest origins or are you going to further insult me by insinuating that I'm nothing but a plaything you can dispose of, a opportunistic gold-digger and frivolous wannabe-lady who should worship the floor you step on? Is that what you truly want to spend your night doing?! Because I can play this game too!”

“Oh can you, now? Because you seem pretty much out of bird names to call me at this point! What more could you add after calling me an untrustworthy, unintelligent, undeserving Frost Giant offspring?” He yelled back with equal amount of hurt and anger in his voice.

He could not help but think that it strangely matched her own, as though his deliberately hurtful words had done more damage than Laetherea let on.

“You called me a liar, well here is the truth for a change: I despise you. I was taken away from my land, deprived of my home, my family, and my freedom, imprisoned in a realm out of time, stripped of every last scrap of dignity I had left, forgotten by those I held dear, and when I finally saw my suffering take an end, it was for this!”

He gestured at Laetherea, who stared at his hand in confusion, not knowing what he meant by that.

“I forbid you to look at me like that!” Loki suddenly exclaimed in a fit of sheer rage, startling her. “I have committed a great many faults, but you are no innocent either!”

“Do not raised your voice at me!” Laetherea yelled back, feeling the air around her sizzle with contained magic – emanating from both of them. “You think that being a man and a prince gives you the right to-”

“It gives me every right!” He cut her off.

All of a sudden, his feet didn't touch the ground anymore, and before Loki could fully process what was happening, his back collided with the wall. Grunting in pain, he caught himself right before he collapsed on the ground. In a split second, Laetherea was standing right under his nose. She was a tall woman, Loki did not need to lower his head much to meet her steady and rueful eyes. 

From the corner of his eye he saw her hand move and caught it right before she could strike. With a strong grip around her gold-cuffed wrist, Loki blocked her attack, but she did not let go of the small ornate dagger she was holding. A gift from him, with a snake around the handle.

“I wish you dead, Loki of Asgard! You have brought me nothing but dishonor and pain! And just as I thought my torment was coming to an end, you hurt me again, and again! You are the monster everybody says you are! A heartless egoist!”

In another quick movement, Laetherea attempted another blow, this time Loki did not react soon enough and just like that, he was trapped between the wall and Laetherea's sharp-edged dagger. If he so much as swallowed, it would leave a small cut on his throat. A familiar warmth spread through him as he realized that he was at her mercy. Laetherea truly was as lethal as he remembered, both with a blade and her tongue – and in more than one way if his memory served him correctly.

Despite his long imprisonment, he was not helpless in hand to hand combat. Loki deftly turned the situation to his advantage and had Laetherea pinned against the wall while her dagger fell to the ground in a metallic clatter. With an arm across her shoulders to keep her from wriggling her way free and throw herself at his throat, claws out like a lioness, Loki very briefly wondered what to do with her. Was there nothing that would make her leave? Did he even _want_ to see her leave?

He wasn't sure of anything. He had been underwater for so long, to be suddenly thrown back into his old life without transition made him lose his footing. Having Laetherea crawling at his feet the moment she entered his chambers made him want to disappear again and return to the now painfully familiar cave whose walls were the only thing he could see during his punishment. When he could see.

He shook the thought away and let go of Laetherea. Taking this for a moment of inattention, Laetherea pushed Loki back to free herself only to grab him by the collar once more, and in a desperate attempt to wring out a reaction from him, she yanked him towards her to close the distance between them. The surprise of her mouth on his was far outsized by the surprise of finding himself kissing back.

It was harsh, hungry, full of need. Like two thirsty beings drinking from a fountain of clear water after crossing the desert, they only stopped when they needed to breathe, and even then their eyes did not detach. Loki seemed astonished but not displeased with the sudden turn of events. Laetherea on the other hand did not seem satisfied in the slightest.

Before Loki could ask a question, she kissed him again, biting his lip to make a silent inquiry for him to open his mouth and deepen the kiss. Nothing about this was sweet, warm, or loving. Laetherea used her teeth, Loki bit back until they tasted blood, though neither of them could tell whom it belonged to. Her grip on his shirt loosened only when she decided that her hands would be of better use somewhere else, and she started pulled back his head, making him groan and break the rough kiss.

“You are the most-” she dived down and began to kiss her way along his jaw and up to his ear. “-infuriating and-” Laetherea bit his lobe and then wandered down his neck. “-conceited man-” she nibbled at his skin where his neck her his shoulder. “-I have ever had to displeasure to meet.”

Loki put an end to her administrations by stepping forward – Laetherea tried to follow the movement and step back but she was met with the wall and gasped when her lips detached from her lover's hot skin. The moment she lowered her guard, Loki bent down a little and hooked his hands behind her thighs to lift her up. Reflexively, Laetherea wrapped her legs around him, no second thought.

“What does that make you, if you're so willingly giving yourself to such a vile, despicable being?” He replied, finally able to form a full sentence, even under the scrutiny of Laetherea's lustful gaze.

A shiver ran down his spine. A ridiculous idea crossed his mind but he crushed it – was that how a mouse felt when a snake looked at it, thinking about how tasty of a dinner it'll make? Laetherea had nothing about her to remind him of a snake apart from the dagger she dropped earlier and the serpent tattoo adorning the back of her right hand – a statement of ownership, both given to her by Loki. A reminder to every man who dared look her way that she belonged to him, and no one else.

“It makes me a woman of little virtue, but everybody already says that about me,” Laetherea told Loki before licking his exposed throat with the tip of her tongue down the where his neck met his shoulder. He yelped when she bit him. “You can't say anything worse than what I already hear every day.”

A challenge, or so it sounded to Loki's ears.

“My darling, we both know how little credit you give to other people's opinions on you,” Loki purred as she worked her way down his shoulder, further ripping apart his linen shirt until she could toss it aside, leaving him bare chested.

She did not stop to look at him, not even a second. And Loki didn't give her the time either. Laetherea scratched his back, leaving angry red marks on his pale skin, while Loki captured her lips and made her close her eyes again. Those accusing, resentful eyes of her – oh how he had missed getting lost in these eyes, how he had wished her to be there even for just a moment. But she never came.

“Go ahead, prove me right!” She snapped at him the moment he broke their embrace to catch his breath. She snickered and Loki opened his eyes. Her hands busied themselves with the opening of his breaches. “Use all my insecurities against me, destroy me with the secrets I confided to you, twist around every word I ever uttered to tear down my spirit! I dare you!”

“Now who is thinking little of the other, dear? You think me malicious enough to use even your darkest secrets to my advantage when all I have to do is to push the right buttons, and you will unravel on your own?”

Treating her clothes with the same deference she did his own, Loki tore through the precious fabric of her dress, baring a single breast in the process. As soon as his eyes fell upon the perky nipple Loki dived in to suck on it, bite it, nibble it until Laetherea's insults were replaced by moans.

“I hate you,” he uttered against the warm skin of her breast, his mouth hungry and eager to go back to his ministration. “You are exactly what they say you are – a naive little whore, not good enough to be one of them, not worthy of walking the same halls, a poor witless girl who thinks she can move to up the social ladder because she sucks my cock.”

Laetherea glared fiercely at Loki, her stare growing sharper with each new hurtful word crossing his mouth like so many banalities. The ease with which he insulted her was baffling – not quite all that surprising but shocking in its deadliness. She refused to show him that it hurt, and kept her cool by sheer will when he snarled and smirked at her the way he did.

“The Ladies of the court are a lot more inspired in their diss than you are, you have been away too long my love, you lost your cutting edge,” Laetherea deliberately provoked him.

Loki opened his mouth, ready to give her a tongue lash but at this moment Laetherea managed to pop open the buttons of his breaches, and so she reached down and wrapped his fingers around him. He was already fairly hard at this point, but with a few expertly given hand strokes, she had him where she wanted. Loki's mouth was agape when she looked up and their breathes mingled – each of his gasps helped restore her confidence, and she smirked with her lips slightly parted since she was panting herself.

They were surrounded by electricity, driven by raw sexual need, and nothing else. All trace of feelings or affection of any kind was absent, Loki made it clear that she was – or at least would be from now on - a hole. And he was nothing but a cocky little prince with a disproportionate ego. And as much as Laetherea would have resented using her Loki like an object, she had no remorse to boss this one around. She accelerated the rhythm of her pumping until he was nearly coming, his head buried in the crook of her neck, his hot breath only adding to the layer of sweat that was starting to veil her skin. Laetherea new him by heart, she knew his body better than hers, and when Loki slammed his fist on the wall behind her and grunted in a carnal way, she knew.

She stopped. A victorious, hysterical laughter fell from her lips when she saw Loki's face when he realized she wasn't going to give him his release. Her hand was out of his breaches and back to his chest.

The small serpent dagger reappeared in her hand, making Loki's previous smile drop while Laetherea recovered hers. She pressed the blade to his skin, and she saw the challenge in his eyes. Therefore, without further foreplay, Laetherea cut him. A shallow cut with merely a few drops of blood pearling here and there. She wiped it away with her thumb, smearing it on his chest before licking her thumb.

“I can see your desire for me in your eyes. I see through all your lies, all your deceptions. Your insults would have more bite to them if they rang true, you know? I cannot say I like hearing those words come out of your mouth, and I will not pretend that it leaves me indifferent, but I know when you lie Loki.” Laetherea did not look away from him as he locked eyes with her, all the while lowering his breaches and pushing aside the middle part of her dress. “You say nothing? Cat got your tongu-”

Before Laetherea finished her sentence, Loki pushed himself inside her, cutting her short. A proud smirk adorned his lips when he saw the rapture taking over her features as words eluded her. A breathy gasp tumbled down her lips, followed by a lustful groan of sheer satisfaction. Laetherea instinctively threw her head back under the sudden intrusion, but she only managed to hit it against the wall behind her. She didn't feel the pain at all – at long last, Loki was inside her again.

“I wish you could see the look on your face right now – a perfect little _whore_. It's quite evident how much you like this, you depraved little creature! No wonder you can't find your place among the other women here, what kind of _lady_ would give herself so freely and without any dignity? Being fucked against a wall is all you deserve, all you'll get from now on! I have been to generous with you, too lenient. Letting sleep in my bed was a mistake, your place is not in my chambers but with the other slave girls – cleaning after me and occasionally being bent over a table with your legs spread.”

Laetherea's smile was hard to maintain through the overwhelming pleasure hitting her with each of Loki's thrusts. He quite obviously could not stop the words from flowing out of his mouth, letting his anger and frustration speak in his stead as he punctuation each fresh insult with another forceful thrust. She couldn't tell if he was genuinely trying to hurt her with his words and actions, but Laetherea knew Loki inside out, and could see past the insults.

The more vehemently he tried to persuade her she meant nothing to him, the less she believed it. Loki would only put so much effort into something if he cared immensely. However twisted this logic was, she knew for a fact that this was the working of her beloved's mind.

“The only reason I'm keeping you around is because you serve me well in the sheets, and I don't have the patience and willingness to teach another whore what I like! Ever since we were kids you chased after me, after my title and my lifestyle, but I've had enough! You will have none of it, the only thing you'll get from me starting this day will be my cock, wherever I want it.”

“Well, well... Someone grew insolent during his absence,” Laetherea hissed, barely keeping up her countenance under Loki's rhythmic assaults.

The tip of her dagger was still pressed against Loki's chest, only slightly digging in when he rammed inside her particularly hard. Every now and again his eyes would dart down and glance at the blade, and Laetherea knew what she had to do.

“I suppose I will have to teach you to watch your tongue....”

No sooner was the sentence over that Loki cursed between his teeth. Laetherea had slashed the dagger across his chest, leaving a bloody trail in its wake. It wasn't as shallow as the first cut and blood trickled down the wound more abundantly. Without any hesitation whatsoever, Laetherea placed her tattooed hand on the wound, making Loki hiss at the contact. Once her hand was covered in his blood, she placed two of her fingers on her chin and slid them down her throat, painting herself with Loki's blood. Then she leaned in to lick the wound, smearing blood all over her chin and his chest as her tongue traveled upward, peppering kisses along the way. When she pulled back to take a look at him, Loki was properly shaken.

“Is this whorish enough for you? Is that what you expect of me now? Rough, loveless sex that doesn't mean anything in the long run? I can forgive you a great many missteps Loki, but not this, not forcing me to behave like someone I'm not! I know the man I love is still somewhere in here-” she placed a hand over his heart. “Let him out.”

No longer than a split second, Loki lost his composure and dropped his Asgardian appearance. Laetherea remained silent only because she knew he was embarrassed by his occasional slip ups, but she saw the Jotun marks on his skin, the red in his eyes, as brief as it was. She moaned a bit more loudly than before.

Her little display of arousal and knife game seemed to entice Loki for he increased the pace to the point where the line between pleasure and pain became blurry. A symphony of moans and purring sounds fell from Laetherea's lips – it was beyond her control, she had yielded her ability to form coherent sentences (or thoughts) by now. She could vaguely feel the throbbing of her womanhood under Loki's merciless pounding, the stiffness in her lower back as she hit the wall with each new thrust, Loki's tight grip on her thighs that was sure to leave bruises. But she was numb to the pain. Loki filled her in a way that surpassed physicality. His warm breath hit her face as he panted above her, making her reach levels of arousal she rarely hit before.

He swore, groaned, heaved, having lost the use of his tongue too. They were both covered in sweat and still half dressed, going at it against the wall of his chambers like two horny adolescents. Every dirty thought, every perverted idea that crossed Laetherea's foggy mind brought her closer to the edge. Loki was nearing his own release, she could feel it in the way he slowed down a little but buried himself ever deeper inside her, as if he could never quite reach his goal. Laetherea felt quite the same in the sense that she never felt like Loki could be close enough to her, even when they were making love.

Granted no one would ever call what they were currently indulging in as love making, but in Laetherea head, it would always be. Deep down, under all the layers of madness, anger, and vexation, she knew that Loki was showing her that he had missed her, and that he was relieved to be back and find her there, even if it was in his own sick way. It takes a wretched being to understand another. However depraved they might be, that was how Loki and Laetherea loved each other and showed it: with impellent diligence, and ferocious sentimentality.

It was a desperate kind of love. One that was hard and all sharp edges – sometimes they cut themselves while handling it, and it was okay. They always healed each other's wounds afterward. Tomorrow they would have many of those to tend to; not all of them as easy to heal as the gash on Loki's alabaster skin.

Another, louder, groan escape his mouth when Laetherea finally tipped over the edge and climaxed, scratching his back in the process. Her eyes left his for a moment, they closed themselves under the wave of pleasure that hit her, and also made her lips part as if screaming in silence. To her surprise, Loki took the opportunity to kiss her, and that sealed the deal for him. As his thrusts grew sloppier and his kiss deeper, he reached his own end inside Laetherea.

They stayed united for a moment longer, hearts hammering as one in their chest, breath mingling, eyelids fluttering. Yet before Laetherea could catch her breath, and as abruptly as all of this had started, Loki let go of her, causing her to fall limply to the ground, for the sensations didn't come back in her legs yet and she was too stunned to react right away. He stepped back as though touching her burned his fingers. He hastily put his breaches back on, pushed his hair back, and after one last look at her changed appearance to seem well put together, then strode out of his room.

Laetherea had cried enough for one day, so she swallow the bile that rose in her throat, and stood up. She was sore, sweaty, and tired. Angry too, despite having let most of it out during their quick embrace. Most of the remaining negative feelings she washed away with a rapid shower, but the tightness in her chest did not go away.

 _Fear_.

For the first time since she woke up this morning, she wondered if things could really go back to what they were before.

For the first time since she laid eyes on Loki today, she wondered if part of him wasn't still in that cavern, waiting for her to come and free him.

1Priestess

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

Laetherea's heart constricted in her chest when she rummaged through the richly ornate chest that contained her clothes in order to find something to wear. Time went by unevenly out of Loki's presence, such was the realization that dawned upon her after the last months of solitude. Therefore it came as no surprise to her when she saw that the moon hadn't yet reached her peak. The deafening silence in the room made her ears ring unpleasantly, but at least she was clean – as often, the warm water had wash away more than the filth, and Laetherea's anger went down the drain with the light pink water after rubbing away the dried blood.

Eventually she abandoned her research – it was too late to dress up, she would feel silly wearing a dress at this time of night. Laetherea returned to the bathroom attached to the main room and fetched her dressing gown, a delicate thing made out of yards and yards of the finest silk, as light as a feather on her shoulders. The last one of a long series of robes Loki had gifted her throughout the years. He always insisted that she ought to have the best but she knew better – he liked having her wear robes instead of dresses because he could undress her simply by pulling on the waist belt. It forced a tiny smile on her lips.

Hopefully, it wasn't too late to retrieve this Loki from the darkness he was plunged into against his will.

For the last hour or so now, Laetherea has been standing by the railing on the balcony to escape the silence of the room, wishing she could go down to the garden. It had been a forbidden place for so long that it took her a minute to realize she was allowed to now. But she dared not leave Loki's chambers, for fear he wouldn't let her back in, or worse, that he would come back only to find it empty. Although it was quite a ridiculous thought for she could hear his voice from where she stood. She had had her idea of where he was headed when he left earlier but now she knew she was right – Queen Frigga's private Boudoir, near the gardens. Laetherea could not hear what they were discussing so animatedly about but Loki's voice always stood out. Like a lighthouse it guided her through the blackest nights.

Her eyes lingered on the fountain standing in the middle of the garden, lulling her with its steady music, and she was thrown back years before, when she first saw it and marveled at it.

Laetherea was not born into this life of riches and abundance, she was the daughter of a servant. A maid to Queen Frigga's service who had been seduced by a guard, then abandoned by him. From a very early age Laetherea accompanied her mother to the palace. More often then not, Laetherea played with the flowers and watched the other kids at the palace because she was under strict instructions not to cause any trouble. But the most fascinating activities were the young princes' teachings. Prince Thor's daily training in all military things, although he was already much older than Laetherea who was maybe seven, or eight at the time. Prince Loki was closer to her in age and less prone to wave around a sword in his free time, always sitting somewhere with a book in his hands, or mischief twinkling in his eyes.

Her mother had told her it was forbidden to bother the princes, therefore she kept a safe distance between them, but she imagined they would be friends if the circumstances allowed it. However the situation as it was did not permit this friendship, so Laetherea stayed away, though not quite far enough. No never too far away. Especially not when Queen Frigga tried to teach her youngest son magic.

Watching the queen cast sparks from the tip of her fingers, or produce a cloud-berry cake out of nowhere was source of endless marvel to a young Laetherea. Prince Loki was an impatient child and did not appreciate the lack of result the first few times he tried, but Laetherea never gave up, however improbable it was for her to do magic.

After all, it wasn't like anybody could use magic, one either had the gift or didn't. But a little girl could dream.

“Do not fret, Loki,” Queen Frigga's gentle voice said in an attempt to calm her quick-tempered son. “Keep trying. Efforts always pay off in the end, therefore you mustn't give up.”

He did not look convinced at the time, but today Laetherea knew he took this precious advice to heart despite not showing appreciation for it in his childhood.

A slave was no better than a piece of furniture, so it was no wonder that the queen and the prince did not notice Laetherea's presence during their lessons, she might as well have been invisible to them. At least, the first handful of months.

Prince Loki persevered and it paid off: his first magic tricks were successful, though not quite what Queen Frigga expected. He was extraordinarily good at creating illusions, deceiving the senses, but creating solid objects out of thin air required more time and effort on his part.

“Come on, dear,” Queen Frigga said, her voice scolding yet laced with fondness as she watched her son get increasingly frustrated with himself. “You're thinking too hard about it, just let it flow.”

A useless advice really, anyone who had been in the presence of the young prince more than five minutes knew that letting go was not in his nature. Loki was a thinker, a bookish intellectual who needed clear instructions to follow – he could not simply _let it flow_. But his deep concentration was interrupted by a loud thud followed by a shriek coming from behind a bush.

Loki sprung to his feet and ran to the bush, not knowing what to expect but determined to protect his mother from the potential threat. A threat that was... a little girl?

“Who are you?” He asked, squinting his eyes and staring her up and down.

Laetherea did not say a thing, her lip quivered as if she was about to cry. Her mother had repeated countless times that she was not to speak to the princes, but it would be worse not to answer when spoken to directly, wasn't it?

“L-”

“Loki, was is it?” Queen Frigga suddenly stood there, behind her son. “By the Norns, what happened to you?” She immediately asked, bringing her hand to her mouth as she took in the spectacle before her eyes.

Laetherea was sprawled on the grass, buried under a pile of apples that seemingly fell from the sky. She gave an embarrassed smile and shook them off before standing up with as much dignity as she could gather. She remained silent and lowered her head, waiting for her punishment.

“Were you spying on us?” Loki asked, rather snappish, no doubt vexed that his failed attempts at doing magic might have had a witness.

“No!” Laetherea exclaimed before realizing she had raised her voice at the prince and blushing tomato red. “I- I just-”

“Loki hush now!” The queen scolded her son. “I think we might have found you a companion,” she said evasively, earning a dumbfounded look from the prince.

“But- mother!”

“Don't be difficult now!” She rolled her eyes but placed a hand on his shoulder. “What is your name young girl?”

“Laetherea,” she blurted out.

“And how did you get here?” She continued with her soft motherly tone that compelled Laetherea to answer all of her questions.

“My mother lets me stay in the garden when she works, as long as I don't cause trouble. Please don't dismiss her because of me, I will behave!” Laetherea began to plead the queen, tears welling up in her eyes at the thought that she might have ruined everything for her mother.

“I see,” Queen Frigga said, realizing who this child was. “I will do no such such, my dear child. How long have you been coming to the gardens?”

“A few months...” she admitted sheepishly, fiddling with the hem of her dress. “I like to listen to your lessons with-” she started but swallowed thickly as soon as she met prince Loki's harsh glare.

“And my lessons appear to be fruitful,” she laughed, making Loki cringe at the pun and kick in an apple that rolled at his feet when Laetherea stood up. “Have you been practicing on your own?”

Laetherea stuttered out a positive response, no longer able to form words under prince Loki's scrutiny and the Queen's benevolent gaze.

“Well, no need to hide behind a bush anymore, from now on you are to participate in my lessons alongside Loki,” she said in a voice that suggested Laetherea could not refuse. Not that she would. “After all, it must be boring to spend all day in the gardens, and Loki is in great need of a friend.”

Prince Loki scoffed and began to grumble something about being fine on his own. Laetherea gasped and stared at him with wide eyes, meanwhile the queen smiled pensively, her eyes switching between these two. She had a feeling they would make sparks, the two of them.

And sparks they did make. From this moment onwards there was no separating them, even though Loki would deny having any kind of connection to the overly joyous slave daughter who bettered him at magic. Frigga treated them in a similar manner, not favoring her son over Laetherea, and making sure to adapt her teachings to their individual talents.

A relationship based on banter and friendly rivalry was born the day Laetherea accidentally produced a basketful of apples in the garden. There was no real competition between them, not like between Loki and Thor. They didn't need to fight for Frigga's attention, they didn't drag each other down with pointless rivalry, but pulled each other up. The pride gleaming in the queen's eyes when she found her pupils trying to help one another master a trick they didn't get the day before was a reward in itself for her efforts.

However Laetherea's young years held their fair share of sadness too: her mother passed away from a terrible and sudden illness a few years into her initiation to magic. Try as she might, she could not save her mother, however good she had become at healing small wounds, this was beyond her abilities. At the time she was already old enough to work at the palace as a maid herself, even if she was in a privileged position under Queen Frigga's protection. It was only natural that she would replace her mother at the queen's service after her passing. It wasn't long before the Queen didn't have anything else to transmit to their young minds eager for knowledge.

Laetherea remembered that day as clear as the moon's reflection in the water. The fear ensnaring her heart when the queen summoned her and Loki to tell them that there would be no more lessons in the royal gardens; the warmth swelling in her chest when she told Laetherea that she was free to stay at the palace and that she had access to the royal library in her spare time. Upon hearing these news, Laetherea took Loki's hand in hers without thinking about it, eager to share her happiness.

A smile, a blush, a year later... Nothing was ever certain, they had to brave the forbidden at first – who would imagine a prince of Asgard frolicking with a young slave girl? Queen Frigga turned out to be their greatest ally when the urge to sneak out of the palace itched them, at least until they mapped the entire place and knew every turn, every nook, and secret passage.

With this newfound freedom they had, away from Frigga's involuntary chaperoning, they needn't hide their feelings any longer. Slowly, and with a great deal of timorousness, a relationship emerged from their friendship. A look that lingered; a hand that brushed against skin; a skipped heartbeat. There was no fighting it.

“I want to try this spell!” Laetherea declared resolutely, dropping the thick volume on the table where Loki was studying.

They often met in the library in the evening, after the queen dismissed Laetherea. A puff of smoke flew from the dusty volume when it hit the table, startling Loki and making him cough.

“Do you mind?” He asked in between two coughs, gesturing to his papers scattered over the table, some of which flew to the ground.

“Here, look,” she said, ignoring his eye roll as she tapped a specific line with her pointer finger, inviting Loki to read it.

“Why do I need to read it? If it's too complicated for you try an easier one,” Loki objected but Laetherea smacked the back of his head and leaned over his shoulder, her hand traveling from his shoulder down to his hand.

“Because I need someone to try it on, and I thought I could do it without your permission, I thought you would appreciate a little heads up,” she uttered against his ear, greatly affecting his capacity to focus on the crumbling book. Then she pulled back as abruptly as her touch was slow. “But if you can't be bothered, I suppose I can have a go at it on someone else. Never mind what I might see if I walk the dreams of... let's say the guard at your door? What's his name again? Something in B...”

Loki gritted his teeth and shifted on his chair to look at her. Laetherea stood upright, arms crossed, and a smug smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. She looked like someone who was about to get into an argument they know they were going to win.

“Is the notion of playing fair foreign to you?” He asked. “If I catch you doing that, I will have him executed. Same goes if I catch him staring at you again. Either way he's about to meet an untimely death,” Loki threatened, getting up to pull Laetherea to him with one hand on her waist.

His lips ghosted over hers and she parted them on instinct.

“That's rich coming from the trickster god,” Laetherea purred. “Do whatever you wish to him, his fate in none of my concern. I'm not the one you'll have to answer to if you kill your own guard.”

Sensing Loki's smirk but knowing she had won, she placed a quick peck on his lips as a sign of peace.

“You learned too much from me,” Loki stated. “I feel manipulated. Is that how most people feel in my presence?”

“Probably. Only your parents and I seem to resist your...” Laetherea hesitated a moment as if searching for the right word while taking him in with her eyes, shamelessly staring at him with an appreciative smile. “... persuasive tongue.”

Loki gulped down. Laetherea saw it. She took a step closer, pressing herself against him.

“I reckon you wanted me to have a look at this spell, didn't you?” He asked to shift her attention from him to her precious book again. She knew what he was doing but let it slide anyway.

“If you please,” she said with a smile, raising her hand and gesturing towards the table to invite him to sit back down.

Thus began one of their many study sessions that reached an end either by the success or the failure of the spell, but not any other way. As much of a distraction they were to each other most of the time, they remained concentrated on their task when they studied. Magic was a common passion for them, and while their blossoming love was well on its way to surpass it in importance, they always gave it their undivided attention.

Laetherea had read the instructions many times before showing the spell to Loki, but even then she read them again. They went over the steps a few times, gathered the main elements, mapped out the different steps to followed and weighted the possible consequences lest them make a mistake.

It was no use pointing out that their combined brains rarely ever made grave mistakes. Once Loki and Laetherea found common ground, they became unstoppable. Perhaps it was the reason why Odin turned a blind eye to their relationship. When the news of their little romance reached his ears, he did not look fazed one bit, and simply demanded they behave in public.

But already people were beginning to talk. The word that a young slave girl who came from the gutter managed to snatch a prince got around, and soon became the topic of every whispered conversation in Asgard.

No matter that they were still young despite being born many decades ago, no matter that Loki was royalty, the spiteful comments came their way anyway. Laetherea avoided Court although she tried to deny it, only going there when the queen required her services. Frigga was aware of the situation and mercifully allowed Laetherea to stay behind on more than one occasion. Loki reacted in his own way, spitting his venom on the poor souls who dared gossip about his _mistress – the witch_ they called her. 

A century after their first meeting they both entered into adult life, suddenly burdened with responsibilities that were beyond them. Despite her being born a slave, Laetherea had lived a fairly sheltered life and did not know how to fare for herself – the palace was her home in her heart. Loki had it worse of course, though he had the most privileged lifestyle one could dream of, his chains weighted a lot heavier than hers. Bound by duty, Loki had to serve the realm, Odin – and one day, his brother Thor. It filled him with dread and rage that Laetherea was the only one able to sooth.

Today it was different.

The voices from below fell quiet a moment ago, and snapped Laetherea out of her thoughts. The moon was higher, the sky slightly darker, the night chillier. Laetherea shivered under her robe and decided it was time to go back inside. With a soft blow she extinguished all the enchanted candles, taking in the sweet smell of their smoke.

Sadness tugged at her heart like a child at his mother's hand, asking for attention. But Laetherea closed her eyes and walked to the bed. She knew every inch of this room by heart, the exact number of steps to go from one piece of furniture to the other. Without giving herself the time to hesitate, she climbed in the bed – too large for one person – and cradle the pillow. She laid on her side, facing away from the door and towards the open window.

By the time she heard a noise, her eyes were dry from staring into the empty space before her. She could not fall asleep, her heart was too heavy. Yet as soon as she realized Loki was back in the room it fluttered in her chest, and she squeezed her eyes shut in a parody of sleep. Could he hear her heart beating too fast? Could he see her holding her breath when she felt the mattress sink on his side of the bed?

He didn't say a thing so she could only hope he thought her asleep. Laetherea had to start breathing again eventually, but she remained tense for what felt like forever. Never in all her years of existence had she thought that one day there would be such unease between them – she felt almost bad for it. It was ludicrous, unheard of! Laetherea and Loki were not cowards unlike what was said about them. They did not sleep on their arguments, and never allowed a disagreement to separate them. They didn't allow anything, or anyone to stand between them. Then why did the empty space in the middle of the bed feel like a yawning chasm? 

Just when this thought crossed her mind, Laetherea felt Loki move. Her breath caught in her throat when he draped an arm around her and pulled her up to his chest. He must really believe her sound asleep. This demonstration of care nearly made her spill all the tears she had been holding back for the last couple hours, but she swallowed them down.

Again, just when Laetherea regained her composure, Loki lost his. When Laetherea woke up this morning, she imagined today's event's to unravel in a different way. She certainly did not think that she would fall asleep to the sound of Loki crying quietly against her head, holding her to his chest as if she was the one thing anchoring him to this world, and stopping him from floating away and getting lost in the infinite darkness of the universe. In a last effort to show him that she was there for him, Laetherea gripped Loki's arm that hang over her stomach, and together they fell asleep.

  
  


*

  
  


“Mercy?!” Loki yelled, his voice rough from being used so much after having been reduced to silence for- for- how long exactly? 

He was afraid to ask. He knew that time was a hazardous thing, varying from one realm to another, but surely he must have been gone for a good portion of it. The truth was that he attempted to count the days during his imprisonment – yet how does one know where the day begins and ends when there is no light? Still, he tried to keep count, even if it was a mere approximation. He stopped counting after the first two years.

“You expect me to crawl back to father and thank him for showing me  _ mercy _ ?” Every word oozed with venom. 

The Allfather was many things but merciful was not among them – rather calculating, aloof, stern, inflexible. There was no place for grays in the eyes of someone of his likes. The concept of mitigating circumstances was foreign to him, almost as foreign as Loki felt when he walked among the people of Asgard, knowing that he was an intruder.

The queen closed her eyes and brought her hands together on her lap. She knew he was going to be difficult – after all he was her son. Proud, and resentful Loki. By locking him away Odin had forever lost his place in his son's heart. All traces of love, respect, or understanding were lost between the two of them. It tore Frigga's heart to see Loki so miserable. He looked a fright!

Thor had gone and freed Loki from his prison with one of Idun's apples, however Loki still looked quite emaciated. He had always been lean, rather than big and robust like his brother, but never so rawboned, nearly cadaverous looking. His skin lacked color, his eyes their usual mischief, and his lips remained pinched in a thin line. It was so unlike him to be so serious, if there was one being in all of the nine realms who could turn every situation, however grave, into a joke, this being must be Loki.

Frigga sighed deeply, searching for the right words. The journey to forgiveness would be a long one, but if the Loki standing before her eyes was anything like the son she had raised, then he would be too stubborn to give Odin and Thor the benefit of the doubt – she was the only one he would listen to apart from Laetherea.

“The others wanted your head after what happened on Midgard,” she argued. He watched her sitting on her chair, looking regal and speaking with an even voice, and it made him even angrier. “Your father did what he thought was best for everybody. He could not allow you to walk away from this without punishing you first.”

“He _could_ not? What can the Allfather do if not spare his own son infinite suffering?” Loki spat back. “Or perhaps he's decided to not recognize me anymore, now that I've strayed from the path he chose for me! Being the eternal second, the lackey to his favorite son!”

He forgot why he came to his mother in the first place. After what happened between him and Laetherea he only wanted to get away from her – for her sake and his. Perhaps running to his mother's chambers was not the best course of action, but the Norns know he wasn't in a good state of mind, and his mother always knew how to alleviate his worries.

“Loki-” Frigga said in that same scolding voice he had heard countless time in his youth. “You almost caused a war between the realms, surely you knew there would be consequences to face! Being a prince of Asgard does not dispense you of your responsibilities, quite the contrary! It makes it all the more important that you take them.”

“Of course I knew that, but forgive me for thinking that such consequences would not be inflicted upon me by my own family!” He snapped, shooting his mother a look that finally unfazed her. “Father might be obligated to punish me when I misbehave, but what do you have to say? And what of Thor? Even Laetherea!”

Queen Frigga seemed taken aback by his accusations, not sure what to make of it. A shadow danced over Loki's features, as if light did not dare approach him. His eyes were sunken in and showed no amusement of any kind. Frigga had supported her husband's decision when he decided to send Loki away, however heavy her heart was at the thought.

Loki had always been a mommy's boy. Thor and him both strove for their father's approval, but Loki held his mother's opinions in higher esteem. She was acting in Odin's shadow but her influence was everywhere, and in that way they were much the same. Before his punishment, and before Midgard, Loki used to have breakfast with her in the gardens, but now that he was back she wondered if they would revive this tradition. Something about him looked... broken. And what of Laetherea? The poor woman had been beside herself the whole time she was separated from Loki, and since she learned of his return she has been restless.

The queen might have a part of responsibility in what Loki had to endure, and in his obstinance he might refuse to listen to her. Therefore it was all the more crucial that Laetherea be Loki's safe haven.

“Laetherea had nothing to do with this decision Loki, and if she did she wouldn't have allowed it. You must understand that someone had to ow-”

“You needed a scapegoat!” Loki barked, slamming his fist on the coffee table and spilling over his untouched cup of tea.

Frigga noticed he did not mention Laetherea, but she did not insist for now.

“You were responsible for the events that took place on Midgard,” she replied, gesturing to a servant to clean up the mess.

“I was a victim!” He shouted and stood up, walking to the windows. He could not stand to look at his mother while she put the blame on him. “A victim like all those Midgardians you suddenly took great interest in. I drifted away in the void until Thanos found me, and-” His voice broke.

Frigga stood up but Loki raised a hand to gesture her to stay away so she sat down again.

“I have no interest in this realm. The Chitauri attack was not my doing, I was merely an instrument in its execution.”

As the trickster god Loki knew better than anyone that appearance was everything – and unfortunately for him, the appearances were against him. Try as he might to prove his (albeit relative) innocence in the attack against Thor's precious human world, no one would believe him. For years he had treated them with disdain, resenting them for their ignorance and unwillingness to give Laetherea and him a chance. And it was finally coming round to bite him in the ass.

He never gave them reason to give him the benefit of the doubt. Besides, his mother was right, it wasn't a mere bump in the road but a serious threat, and as such it couldn't not be left unpunished. Even if Loki was a prince of Asgard, and even if he was not the instigator of the attack. Letting him go and walk among his peers as a free man could have sparked a series of events beyond their control – peace was but a feeble concept, all one needs to do to overturn it is give it a little push in the right direction.

Thor would have opposed Odin. Loki knew his brother loved him despite everything, but after leading an onslaught on Midgard he couldn't hope for Thor to side with him. The consequences for Asgard would have been dreadful if the heir to the throne decided to turn his back on the Allfather when the latter was so close to falling in the Odinsleeping indefinitely.

“Loki...” His mother's dulcet voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

Loki closed his eyes and rubbed them with his thumb and pointer finger. He felt a kind of exhaustion that could not be appeased with mere sleep. There was a weight on his shoulders that crushes him. He was accustomed to look his best in all situations, no matter how bad. And while he had no means of knowing the extent of the damage his lengthy imprisonment had done to him, now he knew and he it repulsed him. The proper word was _lackluster_. In every possible area. He used to stand tall and proud, regal in every aspect, and now he was bent, defeated.

He made himself a promise that it was but a temporary state. His spirit was weakened but not broken, and as soon as his body recovers from its mistreatment he would go back to who he was. Who he really is. In the meantime there was no trying to convince anyone of his innocence. They won't listen to the god of lies and subterfuge. Besides, it was too late now – the harm was done on both sides.

Loki steeled himself, stifling the sudden bereavement threatening to crack his mask of indifference. He spun on his heels to look into his mother's concerned eyes.

“Forgive me,” Loki said, gulping down. His throat felt dry now. “I shouldn't have barged in here uninvited, it was boorish of me.” He forced a polite smile on his lips; it caused the crease of worry on Frigga's forehead to deepen. “I shall leave you alone and return to my own chambers. Goodnight mother.”

Lest his queen mother find the right words to pull him deeper into a conversation he wanted to see the end of, Loki turned his heels and made his exit. His thoughts swirled inside his skull like the dark clouds of a brewing storm, if he didn't calm down it would break out – and the Norns know what would happen then. In cases like this one, there was only one place to go, as much as it pained him to admit it.

His feet brought him back to his chambers before his brain could convince him otherwise. Loki felt awkward standing behind the closed doors, his palms sweaty like an inexperienced teenage boy going to see the girl he was smitten with. If she had half a mind then Laetherea will have gone back to her own room and locked the door behind her after the way Loki had treated her. In his heart he hoped she was still there though it was selfish of him. Every harsh word she threw at him today was true. However unlike himself he felt, he owed her the right to explain herself before shutting her off.

In an instant his anger deflated and turned into immeasurable melancholy, like a fire burning out and leaving only ashes. With a sigh, Loki opened the door as silently as he could. He was not ready for another confrontation with anyone, so it was to his utmost relief that he discovered Laethera's figure lying still on the bed, facing away from him.

He couldn't help noticing how much smaller she looked when she lie alone in his big bed – certainly too big for one person. Laetherea was not fragile or easily breakable, Loki had made sure of that. He did not offer her a dagger because it was pretty, rather because he knew it would come in handy one day – preferably later than sooner. Sure sometimes she used it on him...

Rubbing his face with both hands, Loki changed his appearance again. His well put-together outfit and slicked back hair disappeared; in their stead were tousled hair full of knots, and simple breaches. The purple under his eyes stood out in a striking manner, while the cuts on his chest seemed to have closed already. Their furious embrace had left various other marks on his tired body – so weak that any rough handling resulted in ugly bruises.

No one needed to see that. He refused to appear too weak in front of his family, who expected so much of him, or in front of his subjects, who despised him for his lack of brute force – unlike their high and mighty Thor. There was nothing Loki hated more than realizing his own inadequacy in a situation.

Though there was a glimmer of light among the darkness of his existence, for if he was too ashamed to show weakness to his noble family, and too proud to show it to his subjects, there still remained one other person.

And she was sprawled on his bed, unmoving, unaware. Seeing her vulnerable and unguarded Loki regretted every mean word he spoke against her. The room was so quiet it was hard to fathom a heated argument happened there not too long ago. Yet the air reeked of tearfulness and rue, the testimony to their failed reunion leaving a bitter taste on the back of Loki's tongue.

Laetherea did not take the time to get under the covers and merely laid there in her robe, the soft fabric revealing a slender leg, baring a shoulder, and her arms who clutched a pillow against her bosom.

The streak of moonlight piercing through the heavy curtains hit her leg and bounced off the golden cuff around her ankle. Oh how he had wished to be in her arms while he rotted away in his cell, forgotten by all. How many times had he imagined breaking free and snatching her away to start anew somewhere Odin could not find them.

These same thoughts of rebellion and freedom were sparked to life upon seeing her in this moment. The silhouette of her figure rose and fell in luscious curves his eyes followed like the outline of a mountain range. For a minute Loki allowed himself to stare at her sleeping form, to let his eyes wander over the delicate curve of her neck meeting her bare shoulder, where her hair fell in a heavy braid. Laetherea fancied having long hair and only had up dos when it was required. Loki enjoyed seeing her hair flow behind her like a living thing, and he liked running his fingers in it even more. It gave her a wild look, distinguished her from the other ladies of Asgard who all wore their hair up in up dos so complicated they required several maids to do them.

No, Laetherea was a natural person, she needed to be herself, to be free of movement and free to express herself in whatever way she desired. Most of her free time was spent in the gardens or in the library – her two true passions: nature and knowledge. For all these reasons and many more, she had his heart. A wave of remorse washed over Loki once again for his behavior earlier. It hurt beyond measure to look at her, cradling a pillow at the very edge of the bed as if she was scared the sheets would swallow her if she ventured too close to the middle.

It appeared as though she wasn't breathing at all, and that's when Loki noticed she wasn't asleep as he first thought. As soon as this realization hit him, the tension in the air thickened, making him sigh. He couldn't blame her for pretending, she had every right to not want to talk to him. Loki considered going back to sleep somewhere else and leave her be, but he didn't. She must have stayed in his chambers for a reason, and besides he wasn't sure his feet would have carried him away, for the pull was too strong.

He needed to hold her. Nothing else would sooth the raging swirl of thoughts in his mind and allow him to sleep tonight. Fatigue was like a necklace of rocks around his neck though he wasn't sure he would be able to close his eyes. But soon his body yielded and he climbed in the bed, no longer willing or able to fight the need to hold Laetherea against him. She might be mad at him but he knew in his heart she was not going to deny him this, she never rejected him in time of need. Slowly and with care, Loki wrapped an arm around her waist her pulled her to him, away from the edge, so her back was pressed to his chest and he buried his face in her hair, finding solace in the fresh scent of her soap.

At first she was tense but Laetherea quickly relaxed in his arms. He could not tell when exactly he started crying but Loki remembered seeing wet spots on his pillow and briefly wondering where they came from before realizing he was the cause of it. Hoping against hope that Laetherea was unaware, he held her closer yet. With a soft trembling hand, she caressed his arm as a peaceful gesture.

After that Loki didn't remember anything apart from his eyelids feeling heavy, and falling asleep.

  
  


*

  
  


Loki of Asgard stood as upright as one could, looking every bit the prince he was – at least, if one didn't look too closely. Though his chin was raised and his shoulders square, his mouth was twisted in a scowl and his eyes alight with the fire of envy.

Today was Thor's investiture. Though he was the eldest and Loki had always known the throne of Asgard would go to his brother - while he himself was left with the scraps -, it did not hurt any less. To have Odin throw a ceremony to make his eldest his official heir was a sour reminder of Loki's own inadequacy. Had he been a little less... well, _himself_ , then the crown might have been passed on to him instead. After all, he was the clever one, and he certainly was more diplomatic than Thor 'hit first ask questions later' Odinson.

He left his helmet behind today – he simply did not see any valid reason to dress to the nines given how everyone was all eyes for Thor and barely acknowledged his presence. Had they even noticed he left the dining hall? Had his family noticed?

Laetherea stood of few paces away from him, observing in contemplative silence. It was a fond memory, she wasn't surprised that Loki still dreamed of it so many years after it happened – Laetherea herself still thought of it with tenderness. Out of all the things she expected to find in Loki's tormented mind, this was not it. When she decided to plunge into the dreams of her lover, she imagined he would either be sleeping so soundly he would have a dreamless night, or be tangled in a series of terrible nightmares. Either way, she wanted to know what made him act the way he did today, and she would relive all and every memory they shared if need be to find her answer.

“What thoughts trouble you so that you need to isolate yourself during such festivities?” Her warm voice asked behind him, making him both stiffen and relax.

Perhaps it was presumptuous of him to expect her to already know the answer, but Loki's lips were sealed as he remained in his state of stubborn silence, refusing to so much as turn around to look at her. Deep down he knew he was being unjust for she had done nothing wrong, yet he could not break free from the snare of anger.

“You give them too much power over you Loki,” she continued, not bothered one bit by his lack of responsiveness. She was used to it. “Don't let them influence your moods in such a way.”

“What do you know of my moods? Have you mastered the art of reading one's mind behind my back?” Loki replied, his tone harsher than he intended.

He had behaved beautifully the whole evening, nearly biting off his own tongue in order to keep his remarks to himself whenever someone had the fanciful idea to start a conversation with him.

“I know you better than you think I do, my prince,” Laetherea uttered, giggling to herself when she saw Loki repress a smile, however weak it was.

“It's quite funny you know?” Loki suddenly told her, dropping his mask of indifference and startling her by the same occasion.

Laetherea shook her head no and stood next to him on the terrace overlooking the gardens.

“Nobody here cares to show me any respect or calls me by my title,” he stopped briefly to dart his eyes on her, finally, and added, “except _you_. Yet you are the only person I wish to be familiar with.”

Loki grabbed the young woman's hand to place it around his elbow, and he kept his hand over hers, enjoying how her soft skin felt under his coarser palm. She did not seem to mind and even leaned towards him.

“You don't want what you have, and don't have what you want,” Laetherea chuckled, which triggered an ironic smile on Loki's face. “It's in your nature to be eternally dissatisfied, _Loki_.”

His smile widened upon hearing her stress his name. She wriggled out of Loki's grasp to loop her arm properly around his and snuggle him a bit. The night was fresh despite the sunny weather they had during the day.

“Not in all aspects,” he told her, his eyes not leaving her form though hers were closed in delight.

Today had stretched on and on, and she had missed him. Though even with her eyes shut she could still picture the smug smirk on his face and elbowed him for his teasing words.

“Not like that, you dirty-minded woman!” Loki huffed and laughed for real this time. “Is it that hard to fathom I was merely making an innocent comment?”

“Yes, it is,” she replied but still shot him a blinding smile.

Whatever mission she had given herself when she found him sulking alone on the terrace while lavish festivities took place a few rooms down the corridor, she must have fulfilled it, for Loki recognized the glimmer dancing in her eyes. The same spark that set them alight when she worked out a complex spell, or out-witted Loki during one of their infamous friendly – yet incredibly heated - debates that made everyone in their vicinity flee the entire wing of the palace they were in.

“And yet your mind jumped to this conclusion right away, so what do you say for _your_ defense?” He shot back, light gazing his fingers underneath her chin.

“I can blame it on your adverse influence on me,” she whispered, then leaned in to kiss her beloved before he could ruin the moment with one of his comebacks in an attempt to have the final say.

Any joke aside, this was not completely true. Laetherea had never felt Loki was trying to sway her ways of thinking; one might even go as far as to say she was one of the few people the trickster god refused to use his skill against, to manipulate or otherwise influence them. In fact, it appeared that Loki encouraged her to always be herself despite what the wagging tongues might say.

From the moment Laetherea had stepped into the royal family's lives, from the moment she crossed the line between slave and free woman, she never looked back. Not once in her life had she considered biting down her tongue, or water down her personality – quite the contrary, she spoke her mind like no high born lady dared to. And among the scolding glares she received for it, she sometimes spotted a look of admiration.

“What a cruel thing to say-,” Loki said against her lips. “-to an already suffering man. Have I not endured enough today?” He added in a vain attempt to appeal to her mercy. He felt her smile as she planted another dulcet kiss on his eager lips.

“Is it too late to salvage what is left of it?” She asked, raising a suggestive eyebrow as those words came out of her mouth.

This time there was no ambiguity whatsoever as to the meaning behind her words. To be truthful the prevailing emotion today was not so much ruefulness but rather pent up frustration. Loki barely slept this week because of this ridiculous ceremony – which was all for shows anyway, things would have been the same had they decided to keep it on the down low. As a result Loki was now itching for some action – a fight would have been ideal, if there ever was a moment to blow on the red embers of war with one of Asgard's belligerent neighbors, now was the time.

Though to be honest Loki was not feeling quite enraged enough to face an entire army of Jotuns all by himself in a fit of childish jealousy – even _he_ could admit that, at least to himself. Because that's what it was: a child's tantrum, a silly rivalry he took too much at heart. Thor, in all his oblivious high-spiritedness, did not mean to hurt his feeling or have bad intentions. He was the big brother and thought it natural to be the heir, never once considering that he might not be the most competent monarch, or that his brother could want it too. Why did he have to be so blissfully ignorant? It was difficult to hate someone who meant no harm yet hurt you still.

But instead of further dwelling on those unpleasant thoughts, Loki turned his full attention to the lustful woman in his arms, looking at him so directly, her gaze heavy with desire. She too must have suffered from Loki's distractedness and lack of interest these past few days, though she was infinitely patient with him. Well, she had waited enough Loki decided as he picked her up and sat her on the stone railing of the terrace and stood between her parted legs. He put his hands there and relished in their smoothness.

“Do you have something specific in mind, love?” Loki asked, unable to hide the boyish grin taking over his formerly sullen expression when he felt Laetherea's deft finger move to his sides and towards his back, slowly sneaking under his garments.

Loki straightened up and shivered when her fingers finally came in contact with his skin. It seemed to be the desired effect if her devious smirk was any indication. They lingered on his back a little longer before she brought her hands out from under his clothes and put her palms flat against his chest.

“I have a couple ideas...” she said, biting her lip and shooting him a playful glance. “You look regal in these clothes Loki, but I'd like to remove a few layers if you don't mind.”

“Your wish is my command,” he happily complied, “but first-”

Loki swooped her up, Laetherea gasped and giggled when the cold stone disappeared from under her and Loki carried her down the stairs leading to the gardens, farther away from the party and potential interruptions.

When he set her down on her feet, Laethera was smiling with fondness - though her eyes remained veiled with yearning as she undid Loki's shoulder clasps, letting his cape hit the ground in a muffled thud. His jacket followed suit. He did not move, merely allowing Laetherea to undress him at her will, though after she finished unlacing his breeches and his shirt he began to feel it was unjust that she was still entirely clad. Yards and yards of sheer precious fabric wrapped around her figure in a way that made all the other ladies jealous – Loki always made sure of it.

Suddenly gifting his lover with sumptuous extravagant dresses went from a brilliant idea to a huge inconvenience, for he did not know where to start. Taking pity on him, Laetherea laughed and slowly slipped out of the garment, with an ease acquired with practice to be sure. It slid down her alabaster shoulders, the caress the soft material raising goosebumps in its wake as Loki's eyes remained trained on her as though he were hypnotized.

He nearly groaned upon realizing she was wearing undergarments – what had possessed her to wear those? Of what use were they if she planned on seducing him tonight?

“I shall ask your maid to stop bringing you those, they are utterly useless!” He told her firmly and pulled her towards him – as sublime as the view was, he needed to feel her.

It was only when Laetherea was pressed against his chest that Loki felt the weight of his troubles lift from his shoulders. His worries hit the ground along with his formal wear that he wore only to parade in the great hall to please his family. That ludicrous costume was not the only thing he dropped, Loki also tossed away the mask he wore and hid behind. Laetherea could see through it anyway, and he refused to be anything else than himself with her. She might be the only person left with whom he could do that, they were both aware of that.

In many ways they were each other's shelter, they acted as safe havens, intellectual stimulation, romantic partner, and partner in crime. From the moment Laetherea produced those apples so many years ago, their fate had been sealed.

“What are you thinking about?” She asked him when he didn't react anymore.

She caught him staring again! There was a time, centuries ago, where it would have embarrassed him. Her gentle touch brought him back to reality quickly enough, and her hands once again wandered under his shirt, pushing it back ever so carefully. With a playful smirk Loki snapped his fingers and off were Laetherea's undergarments, causing a breathy laugh to tumble down her plump lips. Those mesmerizing lips of hers – full, soft, calling for him in ways language could not express.

“I'm thinking of all the ways I want to ravish you, and where to do it,” Loki groaned when he trailed his hands up her sides, following the curves of her body from her thighs to the delicate swell of her breasts which he fondled with care. “Under this apple tree,” he said, gesturing to it. “Between the rose bushes,” he continued, taking a step forward to make Laetherea step back. “Maybe in the fountain, what do you think?”

It was only fitting that they share a passionate embrace in this sacred place of their meeting, forever attaching a new memory to it.

“I think we should wait until the days grow warmer to try that,” she smiled and kissed him, giving in to his charming grin. “The plush grass will suffice for now, let's not get fanciful here,” she decided.

“Whatever my lady wants,” Loki agreed before sweeping her off her feet and stealing yet another kiss from her while she was in his arms, holding onto him like she never wanted to let go.

He laid her on the grass which acted as a blanket underneath her back and she naturally opened her legs to welcoming the weight of him on top of her, letting him find his spot between her warm thighs.

To put it simply, it was where he belonged – it was home. Warm, welcoming, soft, and familiar – all of the things he found so rarely in his actual house, things he had been deprived of on many occasions throughout his life. He loved her for that, for never closing him her door in any sense of the expression. He loved her because she was his equal, not by birth but in spirit. Her impetuous, untameable character that made her desirable but unlovable for many a man. Loki was not going to push for a change in this matter; he was fine with being her only suitor.

An raw, primal kind of possessiveness overwhelmed him when he looked at her, a fire lit in his gut, ready to scorch alive anyone who dared approach her or bear ill intentions towards his love. She might not be a slave anymore, but he still owned her – and he knew Laetherea would take offense if he wasn't so utterly hers in return.

“Loki...” His name crossed her lips, only increasing his need for her. She moaned it lowly like a prayer yet he had never heard anything sound so sinful.

His mouth was busy therefore he didn't pick up a conversation, though their love making was often full of those – teasing, playful, heated, serious, Loki had come to realize there was nothing they could not discuss during an embrace. After all, if not then, when? It was when one was at their most vulnerable and open, while feeling the strongest bond one could share with someone else.

Hungry for her, his mouth traveled upwards from the valley of her breasts to her collarbone, leaving behind a trail of kisses and bites. Laetherea clawed at his now naked back, urging him to quit taking his sweet time and answer her increasingly pressing needs with very eloquent moans and groans. She stroked him teasingly, earning a low groan and a warning glare, but she merely smirked and raised her head to capture his lips, effectively nipping in the bud any inclination to answer her provoking behavior with words. She wanted _action_.

In retaliation to her tantalizing ministrations Loki slid his hand down her body, from her side to her hip, to her milky thigh, until it reached the mount between her legs, causing her to heave while glaring at him in warning. A boyish grin was her answer, and she knew he wasn't going to relent easily. From the first stroke he set her afire, making her arch her back in an instinctive physical response to his action. Loki's smirk grew though he was hardly able to focus while she tease him in a similar fashion, not giving him a chance to take the lead.

“Yield,” he demanded, quickening the pace of his flicks and strokes.

Laetherea's lips parted in a silent cry when he slipped two fingers inside her, urging her to relinquish. Her grip on him loosened enough to allow him to move and grab her by the wrist to pin her hand above her head with his free hand.

She was at his mercy, and Loki was _merciless_.

“You're awfully silent, Rea,” Loki observed quite unfairly regarding the state his partner was in. “What's the matter? Where's your _bite_?”

His words where mostly lost to her as she wriggled beneath him to meet each of his languid stroke, her head thrown back and her eyes closed in rapture. Her mouth remained opened; she moaned out a string of words alternating between profanities and his name.

“My bite?” She breathed out through her haze in a voice heavy with desire. Her hands shot up to grab Loki's face and pulled him down to her in a kiss that held nothing dulcet, it was sheer despair – they devoured each other in a way that bordered the literal sense.

Before Loki could add two and two Laetherea made him lose his balance and pushed him to the side, allowing her to roll over and straddle him. The look of astonishment laced with wonderment on his face made her smile in triumph – it was her turn.

Laetherea began to sway her hips before her lover's mesmerized gaze, riding his fingers with her palms flat on the grass each side on his thighs, leaning slightly backwards as she sped up the rhythm. Her right hand came to tease the little bud of flesh between her thighs and after a few more minutes she came on Loki's hand, to his utmost satisfaction.

“I will never yield,” she eventually told him, still panting slightly but her voice leaving no ambiguity as to the fact that she meant it in its firmness.

“I would be disappointed if you did,” Loki admitted, sitting upright to meet her lips.

His hands held her waist and caressed it languorously, taking their time to fully savor the sensation of her skin under his fingertips, relish in the fact that he made goosebumps erupt where he touched her.

Laetherea prolonged the kiss as long as she could, pouring her love and devotion into Loki as a reminder that no matter how cruel fate was to him, no matter if life showed him the backside of its hand, she would always stand next to him to support him – through tick and thin, she vowed to be his anchor, and his lighthouse. As seconds ticked away they merged into one - one being united in body and soul.

The steady pace Laetherea set, the delightfully teasing rocking of his hips threw Loki out of his reverie and forced him to use all his concentration to hold back. He would last as long as he could, no matter that she was a sublime creature of pleasure, no matter that Rea had him wrapped around her finger. His left hand shot up to grab a handful of her hair above the nape of her neck, pulling at it, making her deepen the kiss, urging her to pick up the pace.

So she did at long last. A moment turned into an eternity, and though the moon hadn't moved in the sky, she silence surrounding them was such that they were forced to wonder if the festivities hadn't died down while they were frolicking in the royal gardens like two teenagers who were enticed by the idea of being caught in the act – and maybe they were.

For a while the sound of skin against skin and heavy panting was the only disturbance in the quietude of the place, along with the rush of the water in the fountain. Loki and Laetherea were both too wrapped up in their own pleasure to speak, all their attention was focused on keeping their eyes open and locked, refusing, in their obstinacy, to break this connection.

Laetherea tipped over the edge first, for the second time tonight, and Loki followed suit. They held onto each other for dear life, falling on the grass in a tangle of limps, content and out of breath. Covered in a thin layer of sweat and blissfully worn out, they lay there for a while. It didn't even cross their minds to worry about being found in this position, stark naked and obviously having behaved improperly in a public place.

Loki tightened his grip on his love, engulfing her in his arms as if to protect her from the cold now that their activities didn't keep them warm anymore. Laetherea rested her head on his chest, eyes closed she listened to the fluttering of Loki's heart, which had seemingly grown wings.

“We need to go back to your chambers,” she mumbled after a while, clearly getting sleepy. “My tired body longs for your bed.”

“Mine longs for yours, always,” Loki replied, nudging her and making her smile when he shot her a playful smirk. He pushed back her hair to better see her face. His expression turned stark and serious when he said, “I'm sorry you have to bare with my moods. I wish I could offer you more than being the mistress of the eternally second prince of Asgard.”

An understanding shimmer was born in Laetherea's eyes upon hearing Loki's apology, and she realized he wasn't simply bitter about not being the designated heir of Odin. He was angry for two – for her; wounded in his ego because of his inability to make her rise even higher above her condition – for only the authority coming with kingship would command enough respect to put a definite end the tormenting Rea was subjected to from the other ladies.

“You needn't worry for me, Loki,” she assured him, caressing his cheek. “Your title is of no importance to me, for as long as I have your heart I am strong. They can throw derogatory comments my way like so many arrows, I do not care – your love stands like a shield before me.”

Her voice sounded distant, almost like the night was finally swallowing them, but Loki listen with great care and attention, each word acting like a balm on his hurt pride. He took her hand in his and brought it up to his lips to place a kiss on her knuckles, a poor attempt to show her how much her words meant to him.

“I can only hope nobody will ever stab you in the back then,” he told her with a final sigh, offering her a weak smile in return for her bright one.

“You trained me well, my love. I don't show my back to my enemies, the only person I trust enough to show the cracks in my defense is you. And I know that if one day harm comes my way, it will not come from you.”

Again, her voice was barely above a whisper, as though she was calling to him from far away instead of being right in his arms, supple and tender, a warm and comforting presence he would not relinquish for all the crowns and thrones in the Nine Realms.

“No, it will not,” he vowed, and just as he stared in those deep eyes of hers, darkness swallowed them.

He fell and fell, there was no rock bottom to this endless well of darkness. But more than the lack of light what affected him most was the sudden disappearance of Laetherea. She had vanished and he was alone. An overwhelming feeling of exhaustion took him over and Loki closed his eyes, falling unconscious.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I can help it part 3 will also be the last and conclude this “““short”““ story. But as you can see *gestures vaguely at the word count of 10.4k* I’m not good at keeping things short and to the point.


	3. Chapter 3

 

He woke up what felt like a second later. He wasn't falling anymore, but now he couldn't move. He tried to get up from where he lay uncomfortably on a sharp edged rock, but his hands were tied to the wall behind him, immobilizing him. The sharp strike of hunger hit him, his body screaming for nourishment. His stomach hurt as though he had swallowed a hundred needles, and his mouth was dry as a desert, his lips chapped and bleeding where they had split.

He couldn't move his fingers, which alarmed him beyond measure. Something damp ran down his arms and back; that he could not tell whether it was water, sweat, or blood was the worst of all things.

It was difficult to assess the extent of his bad condition due to the absolute darkness he was plunged in, and his inability to move. All he knew was that he was in dreadful shape – gone was the dulcet touch of his beloved, forgotten the quiet contentedness he felt a moment before. He recognized the place and it instilled fright in his heart, turning his blood cold in his veins. The fear of being thrown back in this horrendous place, his own personal Hel, was daunting.

Now he only wished someone would put an end to his misery.

Regardless of his obvious solitude in these dark caverns, Loki screamed out his agony, hoping against hope that someone would come and finish what Odin could not when he put him there.

Laetherea had woken up in the darkness too, though she wasn't hurt and free of movement. Lost in what seemed like an endless maze of cavernous tunnels, she conjured a torch and wild fire to light her way. The walls and ceiling were made a black edgy stone, strangely geometrical and allowing no room for her to sit or lean on. Her soft leather shoes did not offer much protection against the bumpy ground covered in rocks of various shape and size, but she ignored the stinging pain and the oozing blood and walked onwards, searching for Loki.

In her heart she knew exactly where she was, and she anticipated what she would find at the end of this road. Time didn't exist in this cave, but she vaguely estimated one hour or so had gone by by the time she heard a bloodcurdling scream echo against the walls. She cursed these treacherous tunnels going in every direction, which didn't allow her to find the source of this cry for help. It couldn't be anyone but Loki. It her haste she hurt herself, cutting open her palm when she stumbled and tried to steady herself using the wall. Still she hurried on, wasting no time.

“Loki! Loki?!” She called his name again and again until her voice gave out and her throat hurt.

How many hours passed while she wandered aimlessly through these tunnels? She had to look in every corner for she held the only source of light in this place forgotten by the gods – all but one, who was tied there.

Every now and then a long, piercing scream echoed through the cave, urging her to press the pace, making her blood run cold. Those were not screams of help, they were agonizing cries of pain, a pain so great it forced the barrier of his teeth to get out of his body. She could only imagine what torture he was being subjected to as she got deeper and deeper into this maze without any clue of where she should go.

A dawning sense of alarm made it hard to reason however irrational it was to panic now – Laetherea knew it was but a dream, a nightmare Loki was stuck in. But she had failed to rescue him once, she could not bear the though of failing him again.

Being imprisoned in a dark, silent, and timeless prison was enough to drive any man mad, but surely there was more to this caverns than the location itself. Laetherea could still see the hollow look in Loki's eyes when she found him playing with the flame of the candle. She had never seen eyes so dull in her life, so devoid of vitality and will. Deep down she knew that she couldn't fathom what he went through without seeing it with her own eyes – which is what had motivated her to dreamwalk tonight, even if it meant upsetting him.

For all of Loki's faults, he did not act as mad with fury as he did earlier without sound reasons. And if Laetherea did not find him in one piece, hell fire would rain on Asgard until they all _burned_.

“Loki!” She yelled, her throat burning as though she swallowed a piece of white hot iron. Soon her voice would give out entirely, but she needed to alert Loki of her presence – surely if she could hear his cries he must hear hers! “Loki! Can you hear me?!”

A stupid question. She knew he must have been in no position to answer but she didn't know what else to say.

“I'm coming for you, my love,” she whispered to herself.

The empty cave carried that whisper in the tunnel she walked through but it was otherwise silent now. Whether it was an improvement was up to debate – for as long as one suffers one is alive. This thought brought her no comfort and she walked on.

Her feet were numb, she felt no more pain though she could see just how bloody and cut open their were, the sharp stones having cut through the supple leather of her shoes which offered no longer any protection.

If there was a place where hope went to die, that must be it. Her legs grew sore, tired from the effort, and Laetherea began to lose hope of ever finding him in this labyrinth, but just as she was about to cry out his name once more, regardless of how raw her throat felt, she walked into what looked like a dead end.

No more bifurcation with five different tunnels all going in separate directions, each of them looking exactly the same. She stepped inside an enormous room, a cave within the cave. Water dripped from the ceiling, each drop echoing through the room and creating a music of its own.

A grunt made her nearly drop her torch, out of surprise and relief.

“Loki!” She called his name, tears already welling in her eyes at the thought that she found him. “My love, it's me!”

She could only follow the weak grunts, and try to find the source of them in this giant dark room. Her torch did not illuminate as much as she would want it to but she did not despair and inspected each nook and corner of this natural cave, wiping away the drops of water hitting her forehead.

“Loki...” Her trembling hand flew to her mouth. Laetherea froze and stared in shock.

When the tears spilled over and blurred her vision, she was grateful. Nothing could have prepared her for the spectacle before her, nothing. Someone might have reached into her chest and squeezed her heart in their palm and it wouldn't have felt different from what she was experiencing now. The weight of her discovery crushed her.

Unbeknowst to her, she loosened her grip on the torch which hit the ground in a loud clatter. A cadaver, she was standing in front of a dead man. The sight of him made her stomach churn in a manner she recognized and Laetherea barely had the time to turn around and lean over before she was sick. Her wounded palm pressed against the cool stone, oozing blood, and sending pain signals through her body as she emptied the content of her stomach.

She forgot just how real it all felt when she walked the dreams of someone as close to her heart as Loki.

Loki who was Loki no longer. How he came back from that she had no idea, because she knew she wouldn't. Before her teary eyes was her beloved, chained to the rocky wall of sharp, polished stone digging into his back like so many knives piercing through his skin.

Because skin and bones were all that was left of him – a hollow, starved to death vessel void of life. Laetherea fell to her knees, unable to even _feel_ the pain of the impact against the ground. The torch burned on, lighting up their close vicinity; they were otherwise surrounded by pitch black, making it look as though the maze of caves didn't even exist, as though nothing else but the corner of this room existed.

“Loki-” She articulated his name but no sound came out, it was stuck in the back of her aching throat. He did not look up. In fact he was slumped forward, head down, showing no sign of even being aware he wasn't alone anymore. Didn't he see her? Or at the very least the fire?

Once the tears died down Laetherea scanned his body, assessing what exactly he had been subjected to. There were no signs of torture though she did not conclude of his captors' innocence for this – they did not whip him or otherwise inflict injuries but by chaining him here they ensured that he would suffer, hurt himself even, wish for death surely.

She knew she would have.

“My dear one... what have they done to you?” Laetherea whispered when her examination was over.

His ribs protruded in a strange way – Loki had always been lean but never to the point of sickliness. He looked diseased, like all of his wounds had let infection in his system, gnawing away at his body from the inside out, while the sharp material of the walls attacked him from the outside.

There was no doubt that he tried to free himself. His manacles dug into his skin, stretched it, cut it open in some places. He quite obviously tried to pull his own hands off in a desperate attempt to break free for his wrist were barley attached to his arms anymore. A bloody, raw mess of flesh and piled up skin ending on bony hands whose nails had been scratched off.

But the most horrifying conclusion Laetherea came to was that something in this place attacked his skin, ate away at it like acid. His neck, shoulders and chest were covered in so many blistered there was not an inch of it that wasn't covered in yellow ooze and blood, mixed with sweat and tears no doubt.

Loki quite literally tore himself to shreds as he tried to escape from this place. There was barely anything left of the man she loved. Besides Laetherea's eyesight wasn't the only one of her senses attacked by this scene. The foul stench of death attached to Loki made it nearly impossible to breathe through her nose, and perhaps it was even worse to breathe through her mouth for the smell stuck to her tongue, she could taste the sickness on her tongue.

If she listened to her first instinct she would have reached out to pull Loki in her arms – a silly maternal instinct all women had to protect their loved ones from harm, to soothe their aches with a warm embrace. But on second thought she did not. There was not a square inch of Loki's decaying body that was left intact, and the last thing Laetherea wanted to do was hurt him further by accident.

She leaned in to have a closer look at his face who was turned down. Her heart broke upon seeing the poor state of it. His eyes were glazed, white, absent. He did not react when she walked in simply because he could not _see_ , fire or not.

“What have they done to you?” She repeated, at loss for anything better to say.

He flinched, making Laetherea jump back in surprise, wondering what had startled him awake from his trance if he could neither see nor hear her.

Although perhaps he did hear her but dismissed her voice as a figment of his running imagination, trying to hold onto a familiar, reassuring sound of his past. That was his present now, and - as far as he was concerned - his future, too. Surely madness loomed in a corner of his mind after enduring such treatment for the Norns know how long. Laetherea wouldn't be so terribly shocked if his poisoned mind came up with treacherous illusions in an attempt to make him hold onto his last shred of sanity a while longer.

Though Laetherea knew there must be some left, otherwise Loki wouldn't have been so much like himself – yet so different – when he was returned to her.

As these thoughts crossed her mind she realized how accidentally true they were. _Poison – that was it._ The abrasive substance burning off his skin.

Loki stiffened suddenly and grunted something inaudible. Laetherea had to listen very carefully to make out what he said. She eventually understood that he was babbling an endless litany of 'no no nos', pleading for something.

Then she saw it – the slimy black creature moving slowly but with unrelenting determination towards Loki who seemed to be aware of the approaching danger despite his blindness. She was tempted to use the fire to chase it away but thought better of it – it might anger the creature, it could attack Loki or her to defend itself, therefore she grabbed the torch and threw it aside.

It wasn't easy making out what it was for Laetherea could barley see the tip of her nose in this darkness now that she had tossed the torch away and it was slowly extinguishing. But she knew it was a rampant creature, black as night, a perfect camouflage in this pit black cave. Finally her eyes adjusted to this darkness, and the creature's gleaming skin and low hissing betrayed its nature at long last.

A serpent – a big, powerful snake, longer than she could see in the dark. It began its ascent of Loki's body, looping around him, crawling up his leg, around his torso, and towards his head. It spit venom like an angry cat every time Loki took too deep a breath – however painful those seemed to be for him already.

The presence of this beast appeared to trigger a sudden moment of lucidity, and Loki became aware of his surroundings – he lifted his head, his blind eyes staring right at Laetherea though he could not know she was right there, holding in her breath.

Then he said her name.

It was faint, a whisper at best though he articulated it quite clearly. He said it a second time, louder, there was no longer any trace of pain in his voice, it was the normal voice Laetherea was so attuned to. But before she could mull it over she was pulled back into the darkness, away from Loki, her feet not even touching the ground.

It felt as though an invisible rope was tied around her middle, a force she could not fight was taking her away from her love, and she screamed her lungs out, calling for him, while Loki was subjected to this black serpent's torture. At last he disappeared from her vision, and Laetherea hit the far end of the cave's wall – the blow sucked the air out of her lungs and she passed out on the spot.

Loki woke up screaming – or perhaps he wasn't the one screaming? It was hard to tell. In any case it was loud enough to alarm all servants in this wing of the palace. Loki cast a quick silencing spell before jumping off the bed, awake and alert. Laetherea's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets when he saw her, lying on her side of the bed, mouth open. She was screaming one second, and completely silent the next – Loki didn't know which he liked best.

He had cast her out. It was highly dangerous to forcefully expel a dreamwalker from a dream, they could stay stuck between the oneiric world and reality. It was a stupid reflex to protect himself. The moment Loki realized what she was doing he freaked out and pushed her out of his dream – his nightmare.

“Laetherea!” He called her name, running around the bed to join her on her side. “My love, wake up!”

She wasn't answering, she wasn't even properly _awake_. Panic rose in his chest when Laetherea's hair began to turn a pure shade of white that made her look dead already. Yet her eyes were wide open, even if they were glazed over and stared into nothingness. Loki grabbed her by the shouldered and began to shake her in a desperate attempt to bring her back to the world of the living but it didn't have any visible effect.

Under his panic-struck eyes Laetherea started to convulse, her back arching and rolling uncontrollably on the bed. With trembling but firm hands, Loki tried to still her while he thought about what to do, about a solution.

He had messed this up. He put her in danger, she _could not_ die like this!

He knew what to do, he _had_ to. He studied dreamwalking with Laetherea, they never attempted complex magic on their own, without any kind of assurance that if they made a grave mistake the other would be there to retrieve them. This was the kind of situation they prepared for.

“Laetherea hang on, I'm thinking, I'm thinking...” He told her, forcing himself to believe she heard him. Loki closed his eyes in concentration. “I just need a bit more time, don't give up yet.”

And it came back to him, clear as water. He could see the brownish old volume as if it were in his lap, the words etched on the ancient paper, almost erased by time; he could picture the exact lines about the _anima_ of the dreamwalker being unable to return to its earthly body.

“A tether, you need a tether,” Loki spoke to himself as if he were giving instructions to someone. This had to work, _it had to_.

Laetherea's eyes started to roll back right then, her body becoming still and taking the appearance of death. It might not be a good sign but at least if gave Loki freedom of movement to cast the spell.

“Hold on, my love. I'm not going to let you go this easily,” he ordered her, hoping against hope that she heard and listened.

There was no more time to waste, or to think this through. Loki didn't think long and hard about what to use as her anchor to this world and worked with what he had.

The spell itself wasn't difficult to cast, and it was similar to a commonly used spell in Asgard, though it required more precision and ran deeper – it reached right into the soul of the dreamwalker to pull it out of the limbo it was floating in.

Then again Laetherea was the dreamwalker, the expert. She was far more knowledgeable on the subject than he was, despite his studying this art alongside her to help her perfect it. He had never tried it himself, everything he knew was but mere theory; he gravely lacked personal experience. Right now he wished his knowledge of the art of dreamwalking was a bit more thorough, and he hoped his limited one would be enough to save her.

He cast the spell as quickly as he could manage without being sloppy. He conjured strengthening runes, grounding runes, and produced Laetherea's dagger. He opened his palm and slashed the blade across it in a deft movement. The words he muttered were ancient and forgotten by all and every soul in Asgard but for those who practiced magic, even he had but a faint grasp of their true meaning. In less time than needed to say 'spell' it was done.

The wait was the worst part. However short it was in reality, time seemed to stretch to no end for Loki. In fact it felt long enough for Loki to question his decision and doubt his memory – had he cast the wrong spell? Had he pushed her to her grave unknowingly? Was it a mistake to use himself as a tether to anchor Laetherea's _anima_ to the physical world? That would be his downfall, after all that he had endured he could not lose her too. _Everything but not her_.

With a labored intake of air Laetherea shot up, suddenly sitting upright and gasping for air, coughing and heaving like she had been underwater for too long a period.

“Rea!” Loki exclaimed, his relief visible on his features as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “My! It worked, it worked...” He trailed off, a mirthful yet disbelieving smile on his face.

If he listened to himself he would have cradled her in his arms, but she was still clearly having difficulty breathing properly. But as soon as she calmed down and her coughing fit passed, Loki took her in his arms. He was still kneeling next to the bed while he held her to him, supporting the weight of her – spent, having used all her energy during this nocturnal exercise.

“Loki,” she called his name in a breathy whisper, still slightly out of breath after this trying experience. “Loki...”

Her hand grasped his shirt though her grip was rather weak, and before Loki could do anything, she was asleep again. Laetherea's head bobbed to the left to rest on Loki's shoulder, and her eyes fluttered close.

For a while Loki did not dare to move and simply rocked her a bit, letting her have her rest while allowing himself to stay like this one moment longer. He had to hold her to make sure she was alright – as long as he didn't let go nothing bad could happen to his love.

And so, he started humming a sweet, melancholy tune to lull them both.

  
  


*

  
  


It was hours after daybreak, and something was amiss. Laetherea felt better – though she had little memory left of last night, she still knew Loki had pushed her out of his dream. After that it was complete blackout, but Laetherea didn't need to remember to know what happened, she knew the consequences of dreamwalking going wrong.

Had she been in any state to think or act last night, she would have worried for her fate. Had Loki paid enough attention when they studied together? Did he remember how to bring back a dream walker from the in-between world? But he clearly did, and however relieved Laetherea was, she also wondered what he used to tether her to this realm.

A part of her had also wondered if he really wanted to bring her back – his behavior showed nothing of the sort. Laetherea's hand grazed over her stomach, where Loki's hand rested last night when she fell asleep. There must be some forgiveness left in him, there must be hope.

Lost as she was in her thoughts, Laetherea barely opened her mouth this morning. She brought the familiar old volumes from the library to go over the dreamwalking chapters again, making sure there was no other way to save her than to tether her. But her memory served her right and it was the only option Loki had had last night. She wanted to ask him, but her mouth was dry at the mere thought.

Loki had been sitting on the bed a few meters away from her all morning, in brooding silence, studying something through the open windows with a severe frown on his face. The quiet was unsettling, it made Laetherea's stomach churn. Was he mulling over her near death experience? Regretting his saving her? Was he angry because she stepped into his dreams without his permission?

Better to beg forgiveness than ask permission. He would never have allowed it if she had asked, that much she knew. So what was the point in doing so? He would have been on his guard after that, and there was no way she could have found a way in.

Still, he must be furious. What she saw was horrifying, and she couldn't even remember it all – it was a blur. However the feeling of dread and terror still lingered, and a flash of cold ran down her spine whenever she tried to invoke a mental picture of that giant slithering creature spitting venom on Loki.

Her silence must have been suspicious after all the talking she did upon Loki's return. She had been rather vehement, but since then a lot happened in little time. Her heart soared and constricted at the same time when she thought about Loki, about how much she loved him, and how she resented the way he treated her without giving her a chance to tell her side of the story.

“What is it?” Loki eventually snapped, having grown tired of Laetherea's quiet disapproval. “Yesterday you were so adamant on defending your cause, speaking to me of suffering from our separation as much as I did, and now you retreat into silence.”

She remained quiet and averted her gaze. Maybe it was her way of punishing him, maybe she was too petty to give in to Loki after the way he spoke to her. It was childish behavior but he wasn't doing much better himself.

But there was something else too. She had seen too much, she had delved into Loki's deepest thoughts, most private dreams, and now she felt she had no longer any right to complain about her captivity in this luxurious room. She had seen everything, everything Loki wanted to keep to himself. Could she still plead her own case after witnessing his agony? Whatever misfortune befell on her was nothing compared to his ordeal. Then why did her heart still ache at the memory of these past months? She wanted to tell him what she went through, yet how could she possibly complain about what happened to _her_ , about her own torments when his were so much greater?

Too many unspoken truths sat between them though, and Laetherea would not tolerate that. If Loki was finally ready to hear it, she was going to tell him everything, however painful it would be to relive these moments.

“Was it all a lie?” Loki insisted upon receiving no verbal answer.

Laetherea's head jerked up and she stared in offense.

“Don't be insulting. I have never lied to you and will never start.” She kept her voice even, despite feeling great affront at his accusation.

“Then explain yourself!” Loki demanded, losing his patience.

It was a kind of torture of its own to have to watch his tongue and pick his words around Laetherea. It was as if they had become strangers in the span of those few months - in Asgard anyway - and now needed to relearn how to communicate.

“Laetherea tell me! What is going through your mind, I can see there is something.”

A shadow, something haunting danced behind her eyes. He wanted to know. Yesterday he wouldn't hear her out and now he _demanded_ she tell him. She stood up and sat next to him on the bed.

“Your chambers used to be the place where I could be myself, where I was free...” Laetherea's fingers trailed along Loki's jaw. His gaze was trained on her as if the contact pained him – there was conflict in his eyes. Her hand dropped. “And so after taking _you_ away, they also deprived me of my most prized possession – my freedom. This place became my cage. I was a bird whose wings had been clipped off, forever trapped behind gilded bars, living a life a pretend-freedom. Each new day I was brought delicacies, lavish dresses, and books for my enjoyment – when the only thing I truly wanted was to get out and find you.”

She expected her little speech to have a different impact than the one it did. Loki turned away from her, breaking all contact with Laetherea – he couldn't reason properly when she touched him, or even when she looked at him.

“Then why didn't you?!” He barked with more harshness in his voice than he had intended to. Try as he might, he could not mask the pain in his voice behind anger. Laetherea, ever so graceful and understanding of his moods, did not even flinch. “How can you look me straight in the eyes and tell me about how miserable you were staying in my royal chambers while I suffered terrible pain with no perspective of liberation?”

Laetherea grabbed Loki's arm and yanked him back, forcing him to meet her eyes whether he wanted it or not. She had spent enough time without him, now wasn't the time to look away.

“And how can you say this to me?” She asked in a croaky voice, hurt taking precedence over anger. “Surely you must remember the day they burst through those doors and stole you from my arms, how I tried to fight them off!”

“Yes, I remember it clearly!” He shouted back. “Yet you tell me that you spent your days eating, playing dress up, and reading poetry!”

“I don't permit you to speak to me like that! I have not spent a single day in peace of mind since you disappeared! I fought teeth and claws, I never stopped trying to escape, to be heard, to free you!”

“Unsuccessfully it seems,” Loki said between his teeth, not convinced by her pleading tone.

“Do you have no heart?”

Her hand flew up to grab Loki's face, cupping his cheek and bringing him close enough to rest her forehead against him. Even in his state of anguish, Loki could not pull away from her gentle touch – the familiar, oh so welcome touch of his lover, his Laetherea. While his mind did its best to think straight and distance itself from any emotional preoccupations, his very being was pulled towards her, like a magnet.

“It is broken,” he managed to say, however dry his mouth felt. Without any rush, Loki took Laetherea's wrist in his hands to withdraw her own from his face. Immediately, he felt cold.

“Then let me help you repair it, by the Norns Loki! I fought for you, all the time, always, and I won't ever stop, do you hear me?”

For all the force and desperation she poured into her words, they did no appear to convince Loki. Deep down she understood why – he had never been one to take one's word at face's value. Without proof she might as well be shouting at the void.

“The first few days I was allowed to go out, nobody expected _your mistress_ to throw much of a fit – after all they didn't strip me of any of my privileges, right? What else can a whore possibly want? Let's give Laetherea puff pastries, entire chests of clothes, and entertainment to keep her occupied! That's what I read on their faces when I stepped out the next morning, when the guards finally opened the doors to let me out when I had stopped screaming my lungs out.”

His eyes were not looking at hers though her gaze never wavered and remained focused on Loki. He stared down, closing his eyes every now and then as if he had a hard time imagining what she was telling him. At least he listened to her.

“I marched straight to the throne room, demanding to see Odin at once!” She resumed, tears welling in her eyes out of anger. “He dismissed me. So I came once more the next day, and the next, but he kept dismissing me. He was busy, he had more pressing matters to tend to, and no time to access to my request of an audience. I searched the palace from top to bottom, I questioned everyone who deigned speak to me, I sneaked passed the guards to see if you had been imprisoned in one of those cells!”

There was nothing but venom and fire in her words. The memory of those dreadful days she spent in anxiety and ignorance, sneaking about the palace, and interrogating anyone who crossed her path still stung. Loki did not interrupt for he felt she needed to let out the anger she had bottled up all these months.

“I felt people were laughing at me for trying so hard and so desperately to find you. The stupid wench lost without her prince, the poor little helpless thing wandering the halls like a duckling who had lost its mother! I could feel their pitiful stares on my back wherever I went! I tried to go to your mother but she remained unseen for a long while after your disappearance, locked in her chambers and grieving her second son. I truly had no allies.”

“That makes two of us then,” Loki spoke, if only to give her a rest.

She was heaving, her chest rising and falling quickly as her anger grew. Flames danced in her eyes though she seemed to remain sufficiently in check with her emotions to keep her hair its natural color and no set fire on the bed linens with her mere touch.

“Odin agreed to see me at long last – it had been a fortnight only but it was a lifetime in my mind. Except I never got to ask him my questions, for he merely wanted to reprimand me for my behavior, and ordered me to cease my investigation.”

“And you did not obey,” Loki then sighed.

As much as he had been torn and heartbroken in his prison, wondering why his love wasn't coming to free him, he knew for a fact that she was not one to give up easily, if ever. Laetherea did not need to confirm that she defied the Allfather, he knew. She gulped down.

“He did not take it well. But after this audience I was out of my mind, and I snapped. I should have gone about it more carefully but at the time I was too furious to take the consequences of my actions into account. I lost control.”

Loki opened his mouth to say something but the look in her eyes dissuaded him. A glimmer of regret, perhaps? Or shame? It was gone before he could ponder on it.

“I figured if the gentle way did do, I'd have to go with the harsh way. I killed the guards at our door as soon as I realized my comings and goings where regulated, and I went about the palace destroying everything in my wake, screaming bloody murder! Truthfully it's a blur in my mind. I remember calling your name, shouting at whoever listened that you were wronged, and deserved a fair trial if nothing else. Then, the guards came and all I remember is waking up in our bed.”

“At least he didn't chain you up in a cell for you to rot there,” Loki put in.

Despite his best judgment he still tried to win this argument and show that he had it worse, even though there was no longer any point in comparing their fates. Laetherea hadn't betrayed him like he managed to persuad himself to believe, and he should have know better. He should apologize, but instead he found himself in the position of forgiving _her_. What was her crime other than loving him and fighting for him? _Not succeeding?_

“Oh but he did. I realized it soon enough. There was a tray of food next to the bed, it was as if I had dreamed it all – surely you must have been in the bathroom and the servants had brought out breakfast like usual, right? But something felt amiss, and I went for the door yet again. Except this time I couldn't open it.”

“Locked?” Loki asked, knowing full well that a locked door didn't stand a chance against Laetherea. If she wanted through she would go through.

“Warded,” she told him, her mouth feeling dry.

Loki's face darkened. It was a well known fact that Laetherea's ward magic was the most powerful one in the realm – and of all realms to their knowledge. Odin himself had required her services in this matter a great many times when he realized her potential.

“Surely that did not sto-”

“It made me laugh to be honest, I thought your father was getting senile if he so soon forgot that I could dismantle any ward presented to me and build one ten times stronger if I wanted to. But it wasn't the only surprise he had in store for me.”

For all the knowledge and power Laetherea possessed in the matter of wards and dreamwalking, these were complex arts she practiced, they required a certain amount of magic and energy. And that fateful day when she smirked to herself, thinking of how much of an old fool Odin was becoming, she understood how gravely she was mistaken. The moment she summoned her magic to start taking down the ward layer by layer, she fell heavily on the ground. Her knees hit the marble floor and cracked under the impact as a searing burn tore a chilling scream out of her throat. Laetherea's wrist hurt in a way that she never could have imagined. Her golden cuffs had suddenly become two hands of melted gold scorching her skin, burning her to the muscle, melting her tissues like butter in the sun.

No matter how loud her screams nobody came to her help and she was left to curl up on the ground. By the time the sensation of burning stopped she had no longer any voice, her throat hurt, and her cheeks were smeared with tears. For a long while she did not dare move – she was in shock.

“Runes,” Loki interrupted her story telling once more, now cradling her face in his hands to wipe away the treacherous tears that escaped. “To block your magic.”

“Not block it,” she said with certain difficulty. “To restrict it.”

When she eventually came to her senses and understood what had happened, Laetherea stood up, all trembling limbs and fearful eyes. Her first instinct was to get rid of the golden cuffs but she found she could not take them off – they were a gift from Loki, something she rarely ever took off, and to know that Odin had used them against her, perverted  them.... it made her sick. And sick she was, from the pain and from the shock. Laetherea emptied the content of her stomach and proceeded to crawl into bed to try and forget what just happened. 

But soon enough she recovered from the attack on her person, and searched for a way out. The balcony was her first option.

“It could not have been that easy,” Loki said, earning a mirthless smile.

“No it was not. This time it was the cuffs on my ankles. I spent hours on the floor after that, but in the end I understood that if I tried to leave your chambers I would be knocked off my feet, and if I tried to use magic I would lose my hands.”

“Surely this pain was only in your head – I know how powerful runes can be but to physically harm yo-”

To answer this, Laetherea deemed words useless and simply removed the cuffs to show Loki the scars left by her own imprisonment. Pink, bumpy flesh normally entirely hidden by her jewelery was now revealed, and Loki closed his mouth. He felt compelled to break something, the overwhelming urge to kill something came over him as he looked at Laetherea's mutilated wrists, knowing that it was the same for her ankles.

“I hadn't realized either until yesterday morning when I was told you'd come back. I was so eager to take these off-” she made to put her cuffs back on. “-but now I can no longer afford not to wear them.”

Before she could close them Loki stopped her, placing his hand over hers. When Laetherea looked up, her eyes giving away how exhausted their argument had made her, Loki leaned in and kissed her brow as he fiddled to take the cuffs off again.

“You needn't wear these here, my love.” It caused a sob to come out of her mouth, and she put her hand over her mouth. “You needn't hide anything from me.”

It took a moment for Laetherea to regain her voice and resume her story though there was almost no point in it now – Loki understood now.

“As the days passed I grew restless. I hadn't talked to anyone in weeks, not even servants! I was afraid of being struck with pain again, but nothing scared me more than the thought of never seeing you again, so I tried to find loopholes in the wards and runes. I tried to dreamwalk one day, when I had grown sufficiently desperate to attempt such dangerous magic without knowing if I'd even survive it to try something else. There is no telling what could go wrong in normal circumstances and those were anything but. To my utmost surprise it worked, but I could not reach you. I tried again and again, I tried this countless times! Until finally I considered the worst case scenarios. I came to the conclusion that you were either dead or in a far away realm I could not reach.”

“You walked my dreams during my time in Midgard,” Loki pointed out. “But it's a nearby realm, receptive to our kind of magic.”

Yes, it is. But what amazed her the most was that Laetherea had managed to use a semblance of magic without being burnt. Therefore she concluded that the runes cast on her were not meant to completely deprive her of her powers, but merely to restrict them. Odin would not have a gifted sorceress such as Laetherea wander around the realms, causing mayhem and disputes in her search of her lover.

She tried to use magic again, small things at first. Lighting a candle, filling a cup. And it worked, so she upped it a notch to test the limits of the runes and to know exactly how much power she could summon. Without surprises, she stepped over the line many times - but at least she was doing  _something_ . Her mind yearned for something to happen,  _anything_ ! 

“Pain was welcome in my last days of solitude. But then my isolation came to an end,” she said, her shoulders falling as though it had taken her a lot of energy to tell this tale.

Laetherea could read the question on Loki's face: Who put an end to her torment?

“One day I woke up and the usual tray overflowing with fruits, tea, and freshly baked bread was not in its usual place. Instead I found Frigga sitting at the table with the food displayed on it, looking lost in her thoughts. She was not looking at me, but she seemed to sense that I had woken up because she said something. She told me 'Oh dear Rea, I miss him too.'”

Right then Laetherea's voice broke and she once again covered her mouth with her hand to muffle the sobs that came out of her mouth instead of the carefully chosen words. It had been a long and hard time for both Loki and her, there was no denying that, and certainly no comparing it.

“I apologize, my love. I could not imagine they would treat you in such a barbaric way,” Loki tried to sooth Laetherea, reaching out for her and letting her lean against him.

He removed her hands, not bearing to live another second without seeing her beautiful face. She seemed to pull herself together and resolutely wiped the tears away.

“You must forgive me for my thoughtless words,” he said – a pathetic apology for sure, but it brought light back in her eyes. “My suffering does not cancel yours, Rea,” Loki said in a steady and low voice. “My body has endured pain I could not even fathom, but I took every breath believing you were safe and able to defend yourself, to protect yourself. You did not have such certainty about me.”

“I did not!” She then exclaimed, dropping her mask of aloofness and indifference. She stood up briskly. “I looked everywhere for you! I search every corner of the palace, lifted every stone, pushed open every door! I was ready to turn the whole of Asgard upside down to retrieve you, but-” She stopped there, feeling her throat constrict uncomfortably. “If I had had the slightest idea what they did to you, I would have set the world on fire.”

Her voice has become dangerously low; in Loki's mind there was no doubt she meant every word of it and would have carried out her threat. Laetherea closed her fist on the wrinkled material of her robe and her hair turned a slight shade of dark red before she breathed in and calmed down.

“Peace, Rea,” Loki said, extending his hand to her.

She looked at it for a few seconds and then placed her hand in his. He stood up and guided her to the balcony. It was too beautiful a day for such gloomy conversations, and so Loki resolved to start anew. Laetherea's hand let go of him, but his disappointment was of short duration for she immediately slipped it behind his back to close the space between them. Her hip bumped into him, and Loki wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders, and kissed her head.

“We have much healing and catching up to do, but I think we are going to be fine from now on,” Loki thought out loud, earning a nod in return.

Laetherea looked up, determination shining in her big eyes like two stars.

“Loki, I know I have only seen a glimpse of what you really lived through,” she started, squeezing her eyes shut at the sheer thought, then opening them again. She needed to look into Loki's eyes to say what she wanted to say, she needed Loki to know she meant it. “You needn't carry the weight of this new burden on your own. You've been under so much pressure all your life, you've had more responsibility sitting on your shoulders as a child than most adults ever have, and I will not let you be crushed under all of it.”

“My love...” Loki began softly, pinching his lips.

“Don't,” she cut him off, raising a hand to silence him. “Listen to me. Lean on me. Trust me. Talk to me. I'm not just your mistress Loki, I'm your Laetherea.”

It brought a smile on his face, relaxing all his features. He still looked like he had a foot in the grave – bony cheeks, dark circles under his tired eyes, tangled hair, slightly trembling fingers – but he was hopeful, and it changed everything. Then he laughed a little.

“What's so funny?” Laetherea asked, already smiling in return.

“You have no idea how much what you said was right,” he simply told her, leaving her confused with that enigmatic answer. But he didn't give her the time to ponder on it. “I hear you, my love. But for now I must regain my strength, and holding you in my arms is already more than enough. It's all I could think about in this dark cave, all I longed for.” He ran a hand through her long hair, a shiver of pleasure coursing down his spine. This was a sensation he would never get to experience again. “I will tell you one day.”

Laetherea took his hand and placed a kiss in his open palm.

“I will hold you to this!” She replied.

Content, and happy beyond words that Loki and her finally reached a place of understanding, Laetherea reached for his neck and pulled him in for a long await kiss. The kind that they delayed for too long already.

“At last.”

  
  


*

  
  


A fortnight or so went by before Loki and Laetherea even left their rooms. One might find it strange that after such a long imprisonment – Loki in his cave and Laetherea between these very walls – they didn't yearn for vast, open spaces. While it was true that they longed for freedom of opinion and movement, Loki and Rea's need to be with each other prevailed. At least for the time being.

They handled each other roughly and without care the day they reunited, but now came the time of healing. The time to touch each other with the tip of their fingers, and the palm of their hands, the swell of their lips, and the tip of their tongue – brushing, grazing, stroking, caressing where they previously clawed, gripped, and scratched.

The same routine as during Laetherea's captivity settled in – servants would leave a tray of food in the bedroom, and no one came to disturb them. Outside these four walls, people began to question Loki's return. He hadn't been seen when Thor returned that day in the great hall, and no one had heard of him since. The only time he left Laetherea was when he paid a visit to his mother.

Odin be damned, Loki had nothing to say to him. He wasn't his real father, he wasn't his king. His tormentor, maybe. His keeper, perhaps. Only Frigga tied him to the palace, and Thor was difficult to hate too, though Loki couldn't be blamed for not trying.

If only he wasn't so vain as to cherish his life of riches, and so attached to the woman who raised him Loki would have snagged Laetherea and taken her to some place else. Where no one knew who they were.

But perhaps things weren't as bad as he thought they were. After two weeks spent rediscovering each other under every aspect, Loki looked at his love with fresh eyes. Rea glowed with mirth and it affected him too. She laughed when they bathed, laughed when they talked, laughed when they made love. And Loki found he had missed the sound of it, and the feeling of laughing with her.

She didn't mention that she cast a ward on the doors so that nobody outside could hear them or disturb them, other than the people bringing them food. She figured he needed the peace and quiet, the time to recover, and be himself. Yet there comes a time when all good things end.

“We need to go out Loki,” Laetherea told him, and Loki's hand stopped its exploring of her curves. “Do things, show ourselves so people know we haven't killed each other.”

There wasn't much conviction in her voice, but her words rang true.

“Said who exactly? I answer to one person only,” Loki scoffed, clearly not appreciative of the fact that Rea thought about running errands when there was nothing but the sheets between them.

“I said it. And whom do you answer to, Loki?” She raised an eyebrow.

“To you.” He sighed, sensing his defeat.

“Perfect,” she chirped in answer. “Because I wanna go to the library.”

Loki rested his arm on his bent knee and rolled his eyes when Rea stood up. His eyes where fixated on her when the sheet slid down her body and she walked to her chest.

“Wait, I have something for you,” he told her.

It tickled Laetherea's curiosity. She put on her robe and followed Loki to the other side of the room where sat another chest, much bigger and more richly decorated. It was a piece of art in itself, but then Loki opened it and pulled out a magnificent dress which put the chest to shame. Laetherea's breath caught in her throat and her hand reached out to touch it.

The material shone in the sun, and the dress was heavy with shimmering pearls sewn in a floral pattern on it. It was a very pale shade of green, almost white if one didn't look carefully enough.

“What do you think?” Loki inquired when Laetherea remained silent for so long.

“I can't wear this,” she blurted out, finally managing to detach her eyes from the work of art that was this dress to look at Loki. His smile fell.

“You don't like it? I can have another one made if-”

“If I don't like it?!” Laetherea repeated, stunned. “It's perfect Loki, I love it, but I can't wear this dress. Just look at it! This is made for royalty...”

Her voice lowered at the end of her sentence as her eyes focused on the garment again, and her fingers lingered over a particularly complex bit of beading.

“Nonsense, it was made for you and no one else. If you don't wear it I will burn it myself rather than see it on someone else.”

Laetherea gave him a scolding glare and squinted her eyes at him for basically blackmailing her into wearing this sumptuous dress, but she still took it from his hands. The self-satisfied smirk on Loki's face very nearly earned him a hex, but she stayed put and went off to change behind the folding screen.

“I still do not understand why you insist on hiding behind this thing every time you undress, there's really nothing I haven't seen yet,” Loki said conversationally.

Laetherea's head rose above the screen and she huffed but did not answer. She quietly put on the dress, then walked out from behind the screen. Loki's smile slowly disappeared, replaced by an expression of awe and adoration.

“For dramatic effect, obviously,” Laetherea said, one elbow resting on the screen as she took in her lover's stunned expression. “I learned from the best after all.”

“Well, consider yourself a master of the art,” Loki gulped down. He stood up and joined Rea, taking her hand to bring her in front of the large mirror. “See? Made for you.” His hands rested on her waist and slid down to her hips.

It really was a treasure. She couldn't imagine how long it must have taken to sew all these pearls into the silky fabric, or how many people it required. There was a slit down her left leg to accommodate her movements, and the sleeves were made of the softest, lightest material she had ever touched and the beads' pattern extended there too, making it look like flowers were growing on her skin.

“Thank you, Loki,” Laetherea said at last, turning around to meet his eyes.

Her hand brushed against the side of his face, making him close his eyes and sigh very gently. She swore he leaned against her hand.

“I needed something grand to make you forgive me my unacceptable behavior the day I returned.” He paused, and Laetherea's smile dropped when she felt him stiffen against her. She knew he was about to say something serious. “I don't deserve you. I know it-” he added before she could interrupt him to argue. “But I'm working on changing that.”

“My place is not on the pedestal you put me, Loki. I have done terrible things too, I've killed, lied, cheated, manipulated, committed theft, treason even...” She held his hands in hers and kissed them. “When our time comes, we'll meet again in Helheim, rest assured.”

“Oh I'm counting on it,” he replied, his playful mood back. “Now I recall you meant to go to the library? You should go before I decide to take this dress off again.”

“Will you join me later?”

“Right after I talk to mother,” he promised.

Before either of them changed their mind and decided one more day between the sheets wouldn't hurt, they parted ways. When the heavy doors opened up before Laetherea and she walked out standing tall and mighty, Loki felt a tinge of pride. They came a long way to get there. Without losing a second, he got dressed and left his chambers too – they felt empty without Rea anyway.

On her way to the library Laetherea met a lot of people, which she wasn't too delighted about, but she continued her way without paying them any mind. People usually wouldn't wander off so far away from the great hall or the wing they stayed in for those who lived at the palace. This wing was for Loki's chambers mainly, and one wide corridor led to the gigantic royal library, with several rooms each side of the hall leading to the big double doors. Mostly empty chambers for guests, but there was also one music room, and between the third and fourth door on the right, there was a hidden door that revealed a secret stairway leading to the stables.

Loki and her knew the palace's secrets like the back of their hands – it had been the only way to see each other for a long time. Odin hadn't always been supportive of their relationship, at least not until his younger son fell in disgrace. That's about when he began to let them live their romance, as long as they kept it behind closed doors. The architect who built this place was no longer around, so it was a safe guess to say that they were the only ones left who knew about the secret passages.

The women she met on the way didn't try to hide their stares or whispering. In fact Laetherea thought they were more obvious than usual, which only added to her annoyance. What was so remarkable about her that all women felt the urge – no the _need_ – to gossip about her the moment she stepped inside a room? Surely there was nothing extraordinary about going to the library, though she had to admit she rarely saw anyone there, other than the archivist.

She chased them from her mind and closed the remaining distance between her and her safe haven. She simply congratulated herself for choosing soft-leather shoes that made no sound because attracting more unwanted attention really was the last thing she wished for.

She had a suspicious feeling about something. Loki has been eluding her questions with his usual deftness, and she fell for it every time. Whenever she asked a question he didn't want to answer he managed to masterfully change the subject while making her think it was her idea to talk about something else. Loki and his silver tongue be damned, she loved him but she was going to cast light on the question that troubled her.

How in the world did he bring her back? After some research she came to the conclusion that he had to anchor her to this world to bring her _anima_ back from the in-between. That much she knew, she studied long and hard the art of dreamwalking and she remembered what she had to do if something bad happened. Except of course that she couldn't do anything if she was the one who had been cast out of a dreamwalk.

Now Loki knew the basics, how else would he have been able to save her? But he didn't know as much as she did, and in the rush and panic of the situation he might have used the first thing that came to mind – or the first thing he could put his hands on – to use as a tether.

Was it mere luck that it worked? Or did he actually know more than she first believed? If the object used as a tether had no existing emotional bond with the dreamwalker then it wouldn't work. She couldn't think of anything she owned that would be irreplaceable to her. Since birth Laetherea owned nothing, not even her own life. First a slave, then a paid servant, and now a mistress – never in her life had she owned goods or property. Sure Loki showered her with lavish gifts, but she held none of them as dear as she did his affections.

Object were just objects in the end. Perhaps her serpent dagger could have worked? Or the first book he gave her? There was another option of course, but Laetherea barely considered it, it was crazy. Even Loki had boundaries – but just how far was he ready to go if her life was on the line?

While the mere thought was bewildering, Laetherea also had to take into account the fact that he might be ignorant of the repercussions. Using another living person as a tether was highly dangerous for a number of reasons. The first one being that unlike an object, the emotional bond had to go both way. Laetherea's dagger didn't need to love her back, but when using someone rather than something as a tether, one needed to be absolutely certain that both people involved had strong feelings for each other.

It lit a warm fire inside Rea's chest. If Loki really did do what she suspected – however idiotic it was – it was the first tangible proof of their love she ever got. An undeniable proof.

But the other effect of such a spell was a lasting and unbreakable bind between two people – and while it was a great show of love to do that for someone, it was equally dangerous. Instances of dreamwalkers being pulled out of the in-between thanks to a link to a living tether were so rare that it was hard to determine to what extent they were linked. Perhaps it was merely a matter of giving the dreamwalker a reason to fight their way back, a direction to follow to come back. Or perhaps their lives were now intrinsically entwined.

In which case they had no way of knowing what was to happen. From now on they might share a bond deeper than they wished for. What if the harm done to one of them had direct repercussions on the other one? What if one of them died? What if Loki died? Would Laetherea be dragged back into the dark conscious-less abyss she was thrown into after being cast out of his dreams?

Rea closed the heavy volume before her and swallowed hard. Her throat felt tight. There was too many unanswered questions which she had no idea how to deal with. She had a strong feeling they would have to find out what the consequences of their actions were by themselves – and maybe write about it so future generations of dreamwalkers would know better.

But she was putting the cart before the horse: first she needed to ask Loki if he really did use himself as tether. She could always worry about undesirable side effects later. Queen Frigga in her wisdom might have an answer, or at least a semblance of a solution to offer them. In any case Laetherea was done reading old books she knew by heart anyway, and she decided to head to the Queen's quarters.

The sun has traveled up a fair bit since she arrived here but there was still no sign of Loki so he must still be with his mother. All the better.

Ever so thoughtful, Laetherea gently gathered the books sprawled on her desk and walked through the familiar aisles to put them back on their shelves, making all traces of her visit disappear. She was carrying the last and heaviest book on her hip when she realized something. She quickly put it back where it belonged, then made one last stop in another aisle before going to see her beloved. She grabbed a thick leather book, not expecting it to be so heavy. In her haste she knelt down and put it on the ground, flipping through the pages until she found what she was looking for. When her eyes settled on the paragraph she has been looking for, Laetherea fell back, her hands grabbing the nearest shelf to steady herself.

Her head was spinning.

She needed to see Loki _right now_.

  
  


*

  
  


The silence reigning in the hallway was nothing short of eerie. Laetherea immediately stopped in her tracks, wondering what was happening and if she too should be respectfully stepping out of the way and lowering her head, as did all the ladies still lingering in this part of the palace.

Had the atmosphere been lighter she might have become upset over the swelling number of women wandering in this corridor, as if they didn't have anything better to do that to spy on the fallen prince and his whore. Truly, what had the Asgardian society come to? Laetherea might be of low birth but she never behaved so lowly.

Then she saw the source of everybody's quiet awe and her annoyance disappeared. Loki. He couldn't see her as he was walking the other way, but Rea noticed he had dressed up, looking every bit the member of royalty he was. His cape swayed behind him, swelling with the wind provided by his momentum. There were a sort of crushing aura around him, that made the people he walked past feel smaller, making them all feel that he held the authority.

Every day since he came back their breakfast was accompanied by one of Idun's golden apples but he made a point of only taking a bit, lest the people of Asgard be inclined to forget the All-father's cruelty towards the one he called his son when they finally saw him again. While there were lingering traces of his endeavors, Loki looked well and alive – if but a tired and weary.

“Loki!” Laetherea called after him.

He froze right away, and turned around with hopeful eyes, smiling as soon as he saw her standing there in the dress he gifted her with. She truly was a sight to behold, especially amongst all the ladies that seemed to have gathered in this unlikely part of the royal palace.

He waited for her to catch up and Laetherea ran up to him, holding up her dress so she wouldn't step on the hem.

“My love,” Loki greeted her gently, reaching out to cradle her face and kiss her delicately. It was torture to stay proper in front of an attentive crowd when all he wanted to do was to whisk her away and kiss her senseless. “What is the matter?”

Her trouble must have shown on her face. He might look handsome and regal but Laetherea did not forget why she sought him out in the first place instead of waiting for him to join her in the library like they agreed. The piercing stares of the people peering at them held her back from showering Loki in questions though.

“I must speak with you,” she told him calmly, in a low voice. “In private.”

A look of surprise crossed his eyes, then a tender smile stretched his lips. The look of understanding he gave her made her heart jump like never before. She had a strong feeling this was as good an avowal as any speech. Could he truly know what was on her mind? Were her suspicions justified?

“Tell me I'm wrong,” she then said, her eyes pleading him.

This could not be. She hadn't allowed herself to ever hope such a day would come. Loki wasn't allowed to rob her of this moment the way she thought he did. Didn't he know her well enough to be aware of that? Because if it was true it meant that she had had no choice in the matter. Was Loki scared she might go against his wish? Was it truly what he wanted or a mere necessity to bring her back? Was it an unfortunate side effect he didn't know of before attempting the spell that brought her back? So many questions swirled in her brain they made her dizzy.

Loki, sensing her light-headedness, gently grabbed Laetherea's hand and placed it in the crook of his elbow to provide her with some balance as they kept on walking slowly down the hallway. All eyes were set on them though they barely noticed them.

“My love?” He repeated, questioningly this time.

“Do not play this game with me, Loki,” Laetherea told him in a whisper so no one else would hear.

His expression softened.

“So you know.” Short. To the point. It was like being kicked in the stomach, Laetherea couldn't breathe anymore. The floor disappeared under her and she would have lost her footing if it wasn't for Loki. Her head was spinning. “I knew you'd have found out eventually but I was hoping to break the news to you before that.”

“Is this real, Loki? Or it is all a masquerade? Because if this is just one of your jokes then you have an even more twisted sense of humor than I'd imagined.”

Her tone was full of unspoken warnings Loki easily picked up. As if it wasn't enough Laetherea gritted her teeth, as if holding back from hexing him in front of everyone. On the one side Loki was perfectly aware that she could and would do it if there hadn't been so many people around, but on the other side he knew she would never undermine his authority by publicly handing him his ass.

“I promise it is not a jest, Rea. This counts among the rare things I would never take lightly,” he assured her, still rubbing the back of her hand with his. “Had I had a choice in the matter I would have proceeded otherwise, but what's done is done, my love.”

“You speak of it so unaffectedly,” she pointed out, her observation making her chest constrict. It had to mean _something_ to him, or she wouldn't bear it. “Was it an accident?” She gulped down, preparing herself to hear the harsh truth of it: Loki had had no other choice and now had to owe up to his spur of the moment decision.

“Look at me.”

He stopped in his tracks and gently lifted Laetherea's chin with his fingers.

“I am looking at you, Loki. Yet I cannot read you,” she sighed, her voice melancholy. “Who else knows?”

“Laetherea please, don't jump to any conclusion before I explain,” Loki asked of her, and she could not deny him so she bit her lips and waited quietly. “I love you. I know many people doubt that I am even capable of such emotion but I assure you I feel it fiercely, and deeply. Had our circumstances been different I would have spared you a lifetime of humiliation for being my mistress, constantly shamed by those who should be crawling at your feet.”

He ushered those words so close to her ear that Laetherea felt his breath against her neck and found it hard to focus on the meaning of his speech. If she turned her head just a little bit she could kiss him. But this conversation was of importance, and she gathered herself.

“Do not use this honeyed voice with me, Loki. I demand the plain truth.”

“The truth? But my love the truth is that I knew perfectly how similar the tethering spell was to the binding spell used in wedding ceremonies,” he finally admitted. “I knew it, and I didn't hesitate a second. The All-father be damned, I do not care for his approval anymore.”

His hand cupped her face, stroke her cheek – Laetherea closed her eyes. She was the most powerful witch in the universe and yet the workings of the nearly magical pull she felt towards Loki was a mystery to her.

“It means that we're married now, technically,” Laetherea said, barely managing to voice the words. It sounded unreal.

“I know. I wish I could have given you a saying in it...”

He sounded dreadfully sorry for having acted behind her back – or rather over her unconscious body – but Laetherea could not shake off the feeling that this was not how it should have happened. She hated not having any control over her own circumstances, and feeling that she was venturing on a slippery slope, she decided to pull back altogether.

“I realize this is rather unconventional, but I hope I wasn't in the wrong when I assumed you wouldn't be opposed to the idea of wedding me? I feel the force of your love for me, Rea, and I need you to believe – to _know_ – that every bit of it is reciprocated.”

“I want to believe you,” she told him, eyes still squeezed shut and voice full of anguish.

Fate have mercy, if this turned out to be nothing but a false hope it would kill her. What if the All-father decided to break up their marriage? After all they did nothing the right way, and their binding didn't come to pass thanks to the traditional wedding spell. Though one might argue that the spell they used is even stronger and harder to break, not to mention that if such decision was taken Laetherea might drift back to the in-between, deprived of her tether to this world.

“You can believe me. I swear I will let nothing stand between us anymore. You must have trillions of questions knowing you, and they will all be answered in time. For now, I think we should go see the one person who will be happy for us.”

The Queen no doubt. As skilled as she was she would probably sense the binding spell on them the moment they stepped into her chambers. Invisible ties bind spouses together, and those who mastered sorcery can see them.

“This is not how it should have happened,” Laetherea told Loki, earning an apologetic wince. “I wasn't even conscious.”

“Sadly I was limited by time to find a better way to do this. We'll have all the time in the universe to do this properly if that is what you want, Rea,” he promised her.

She shook her head.

“You have no idea how dangerous this spell was. It is not as easy to cast as it seems and the variables are countless. So many things could have gone wrong, I'm shaking at the sheer thought, Loki!” Laetherea suddenly burst out, once again attracting curious glances. “Tethering someone to an object is tricky enough but you put your own life at risk by casting the spell on yourself.”

“And I beat the odds, didn't I?” He asked with a smug smile. Laetherea spoke true, she was indeed trembling lightly under his touch, visibly shaken up by the avalanche of revelations coming her way in such a short time. “Don't torture yourself with what could have happened. We are both alive and well.”

“For how long? The All-father might not support our union – let alone the means by which it came to pass. I'm still a nobody within these walls,” she reminded him, gesturing around them to the women giving her scornful glares and shameless eavesdropping though they likely didn't catch half of what Loki and Laetherea said under their breath.

Privacy was a foreign concept among nobility.

“All my life I have ignored them, I have walked in your shadow in public because I know that you will always treat me as your equal. This is different, I can't be in the spotlight. People will condemn this union.”

Loki grabbed both her hands in his, pulling Laetherea to him and making her gasp and open her eyes wide. Disheveled Loki was, and his clothes were crumpled, his face showed lack of sleep and traces of starvation. But his eyes were alit with a new and hopeful fire Laetherea had not known was burning there. She found herself being incapable of voicing any more of her doubts and fears, swallowing them down instead.

Something swelled in her bosom as she slowly pushed away her concerns for later examination, and accepted what she just learned: she was married.

Maybe not in front of witness, maybe not lawfully, but by what had always been and will always be Loki and her's common ground. The place where they could meet as equals, regardless of social status or birth. The one force more powerful than Odin's wrath.

Magic.

“Is this what the dress is for?” Laetherea asked Loki, making his smile widen this much more. “I should have known it wasn't out of the goodness of your heart that you gave me this priceless gift, you always have hidden intentions.”

“Consider it a wedding gift,” Loki replied, brushing her hair behind her shoulder. “I do not aspire to live in the spotlight more than you do, trust me. We will do whatever it takes to live our lives as we intend, away from prying eyes. But might we fail, you now have the full authority to put impudent nobles back in their rightful place and will no longer suffer disrespect from those below your status – meaning almost everyone.”

“I don't care about my position in Asgard, Loki. I care only about standing by your side, officially or not. I would have been content remaining the despised royal whore in everyone's eyes as long as I had a place in your heart.” Laetherea raised her hand when Loki opened his mouth to argue, gesturing him to let her finish. “Had either one of us been... _wavering_ in their affection, the spell would have destroyed us both.”

By the way Loki's eyebrows shot up she could tell he did not have this critical piece of information, but the shock on his face was quickly replaced by warmth and mirth as the realization of what it implied dawned on him.

“This is knowledge I will cherish until my dying day,” Loki spoke clearly, not caring about anyone hearing them at this point.

He placed a firm kiss on Laetherea's knuckles, making her smile brightly. It wasn't exactly her wedding day – technically speaking – but it felt like it. She was feeling giddier by the second as she came to terms with everything Loki told her. She wore a dress as beautiful as Spring itself, and Loki was safe and sound in her arm, smiling down at her like she was his whole world.

And perhaps she truly was.

“My precious love, my wife,” he said out loud, causing a series of shocked gasps to fall from the lips of the ladies in the hallway.

He didn't wait a moment longer to lean in and kiss his beloved, in plain sight and despite the chorus of scoffs it earned them for such an outrageous show of affection in public. Loki did not pay them any mind, for he was focused entirely on Rea's soft, warm lips, and the tenderness of her kiss.

“Come now,” she told him, pulling back and tugging on his arm. “We must announce the news to your family. This day is far from being over, we still have many people to scandalize!”

“Maybe the shock of it all will put the All-father in Odinsleep again - at least we'll have peace for a while,” Loki grumbled, following Rea.

He sounded confident before but he couldn't hide his apprehension at the thought of having to confront the General about Laetherea and his fresh union. Her hand tightened its grip on him, and Loki met her sparkling eyes. There was determination and unyielding hope shimmering in her dark eyes, lighting up her face in a child-like manner that made everyone forget her true age. Centuries of hardships weighted heavy on a slim woman's small shoulders, though Laetherea carried them with grace – she looked all the more splendid without them nonetheless.

“I will not let anyone take you away from me again, Loki. I would sooner tear this world apart,” she vowed.

She was unquestionably serious.

“As would I, my love,” Loki said. He brought her hand up to his lips and placed a kiss on her knuckles.

Laetherea's eyes widened upon seeing the glimmering gold band that appeared on her ring finger.

  
  


 

 


End file.
